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batsandbugs · 3 years

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Bats Bugs and Boomerangs Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone, coming at you with another series! This is actually for a late secret santa gift exchange! My recipient was @m3owww! Her fandoms were Maribat and Avatar the Last Airbender, so I thought: Why not both? She already had a Maribat characters in the show type fic, so I created a fic where they watched the show. It slowly spiraled out of control though, so this is Chapter 1. I’ll eventually have the batfam (and Marinette) react to the whole series, so comment here and on ao3 what you want to see. So Phi, this is kinda like the gift that will keep on giving? Maybe? I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

Our story begins on a frosty winter evening, outside Gotham at Wayne Manor. Marinette sat in the library working on an assignment for her History of Fashion class. She was alone, because Damian, Dick, Tim, and Bruce were out on patrol, with Barbara on comms. Tikki, unless eating or involved with a transformation, spent her time sleeping due to the freezing weather. While the other Kwami either resided in the box or roamed the grounds, and generally stayed out of the human's way.

Marinette gazed out the window, snow falling softly through the air, covering the ground and the tree branches. A crackling fire warmed the room. She shifted, and a painful ache shot through her leg. Marinette glared at the offending appendage, which was the reason she wasn’t out with the team tonight.

Her Miraculous could cure any injury sustained on the battlefield, it didn’t help her one bit when it came to her own natural clumsiness. She hadn’t paid attention as she’d walked out of class one evening. The dim lighting hid a black ice patch and she slipped and fell. Thankfully, her ankle was only sprained and not broken, but she would be out of commission for at least two weeks. Probably more if Alfred got his way.

Speaking of the elderly butler, he strode into the room carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Good evening Miss. Marinette. Need another refreshment?”

She sighed at the cold coffee dregs in her mug. “That would be nice, thank you, Alfred.”

He hummed, grabbing a teacup, and pouring her a serving. “How does your leg feel today? I notice you were leaning heavily on Master Damian after supper.” He handed the cup to her and the warmth was a welcome sensation for her chilled hands.

“Yeah, he’s been nice helping me around.” Nice was a misnomer, more like extremely overprotective. He point-blank refused for her to stay at her own apartment, mostly due to its location on the fourth floor with no elevator access. He all but forced her to watch him pack her essentials to bring to the manor while she recovered. Since then, his attentiveness in ensuring she had what she needed within reach and helping her to class had grown. It was a tad smothering considering his usual aloofness, but she enjoyed his actions for the affection it implied.

“It’s throbbing and hot and feels worse than it did three days ago.” She took a tiny sip of the tea and relaxed into its spiced aroma. Alfred made the best tea.

He nodded. “It will feel uncomfortable for a while until it starts to mend. Just continue to rest and remain off it and you will be back to carousing around the city like the rest of them in no time.” He poured his own tea and seated himself in the plush armchair across from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, Alfred you say that as if you would not be right there along with us if age allowed,” said Marinette with a grin. The stories Dusu could recount about the elderly miraculous holder were nothing short of entertaining, and she knew damn well Alfred had the same need for action as the rest of the Waynes and their assorted allies.

“I’d do nothing of the sort,” he said primly, taking a sip of his tea to hide the tiny smirk on his face. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant silence. Despite the pain in her leg Marinette pushed through it and finished her assignment, while Alfred read until it neared time when patrol ended. He bustled up the remains of the tea and promise her a fresh cup when he finished seeing everyone arrive safely.

Later, although she could not say how long, she was buried deep in a book and didn’t notice when Damian entered the room until he sat next to her on the couch.

“Good evening angel.” His hair flopped in his eyes, loose and damp from the shower. In his hands, he held a tray with two cups of steaming tea.

“Thanks.” She took the proffered cup of tea with a smile. “How was patrol?”

“Boring,” he sighed. “You certainly are not missing anything.” If he wouldn’t have taken offense to it, Marinette would have described the look on his face as a pout.

“What about the drug seller Tim tracked to the lower docks?”

Damian shrugged. “Gone silent after we busted the last shipment. Seventeen years in and maybe the criminals finally figured out committing crimes in the same city as a relentless vigilante team is a bad idea,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Marinette couldn’t stop herself from giggling. It was a common joke among the family that Gotham’s criminals never learned.

“I think it means we’re doing our job right,” said Tim walking in with a steaming mug. Marinette opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Don’t worry, it’s decaf.”

“Like Pennyworth would let him drink anything else this time of night,” scoffed Damian, while taking a sip of his tea.

“I’m perfectly capable of monitoring my own caffeine intake, thanks,” Tim said in offense, seating himself across from the couch in the reading chair previously abandoned by Alfred.

“No, you’re not,” called a voice from the hallway. Dick walked in with a large mug of what was undoubtedly hot chocolate. “The last time he didn’t check your drink after patrol, you used coffee instead of water to brew another pot, and then added four whole bottles of five-hour energy. You didn’t sleep for three days.”

“I also solved five crimes, figured out where the Penguin was hiding, and streamlined the dropbox submission system for Wayne Industries. Life requires tradeoffs.”

“No that’s just you, ignoring basic human necessities. Anyway, besides Tim’s caffeine addiction, what are we talking about?” asked Dick.

“The reason for the lack of crime,” offered Marinette.

Dick shrugged, “Happens every year because of the weather. Even criminals get cold. They’ll return to their usual transgressions once the weather warms.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Tt. Weak,” muttered Damian.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Not everyone receives extreme weather training under threat of dismemberment, demon brat. We should take the opportunity to enjoy the break.”

“Tim, your version of a “break” involves paperwork,” chided Dick.

“It’s not my fault the rest of you people don’t have lives. I’m a remarkably busy person. And what is this, the-criticize-Tim-hour?”

“Oh, only an hour?” smirked Damian. “I thought it was a continuous event, one could choose to participate in whenever the mood struck. I will have to file all my complaints immediately.”

Tim pouted. “Marinette,” he whined. “Can’t you control him?”

She shrugged, “What do you expect me to do? I’m his girlfriend, not his minder. Besides, they criticize because they care.” She laughed when all three boys snarled their noses at the prospect of feelings.

“Marinette, angel, please; never say that again. I criticize because I am right, and they should know it. Not because of any high-minded ideals such as genuine affection.”

“Okay, okay, enough,” said Dick. “If we have a bit of a break, we should do something! Together, as a family. I think Cass and Steph come back in two days.”

“Grayson, just because your girlfriend is off-world visiting family and you have nothing to do does not mean it holds true for the rest of us.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Tim, “Except not quite, because I don’t have a girlfriend, but I just said I’m busy. R&D is rolling out a new prototype next week, and I have two board meetings scheduled and-”

“Not to mention,” Marinette cut Tim off. He could talk about his schedule forever because he just had that many events. “I can’t move around, what would we even do? Play games?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The list of games officially banned in our family includes, but is not limited to; Monopoly, Uno, Checkers, Risk, Risk: Legacy, Twister, Jenga, Clue, Guess Who, Poker, Chess, and Go Fish.”

“Oh…” muttered Marinette.

“And that doesn’t even include videogames.”

“After the Wii Bowling incident of 2013, the media room wall was never the same,” Dick said, shaking his head in despair.

“I actually apologized for that, okay?” exclaimed Damian. “Why do you always have to bring it up?”

Marinette fully intended to ask about the incident later. “Okay, so games are out.”

“Ooh,” Dick’s eyes lit up, “How about we call a Family T.V. Event?”

Tim groaned, “The last time we did that we blew up the shed, and got the police called.”

“Well, we won’t watch a crime show.” Dick turned to Marinette. “Jason picked; we watched Breaking Bad.”

“I can see how that would spiral out of control.”

“The time before that, we set fire to the media room and started a familial feud,” Damian pointed out. “Game of Thrones,” he added when Marinette looked to him for clarification.

“Even worse.”

“Okay, fine, so we don’t have the best track record picking shows. But I swear I have a good one this time.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

Tim snorted. “What? Like the kid’s show?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Really Grayson, a cartoon? I know you are developmentally stuck at five, but not all of us are.”

“I’ve never watched it, but I’ve heard good things about it,” said Marinette. She knew there was a French translation of the show, but she preferred to watch media in its original language. Before moving to America, before dating Damian, her English had not been strong enough to confidently watch a show and understand all of it.

“Perfect!” exclaimed Dick. “I know you three and Cass haven’t seen it, and neither has Bruce or Alfred. I would bet Jason’s seen some of it, but I’ll have to check. Barbara and I have, but that’s fine, she loves the show. We’ll have to see about Steph too, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy it regardless. There are awesome characters, battles, suspense, comedy, and it’s not likely going to inspire us to blow up the shed or tear each other to pieces!”

“I have in no way agreed to this Grayson. Drake back me up.”

Tim paused for a moment, stuck between his need to disagree with Damian and the need to get out of Dick’s crazy plan. Unfortunately for Damian, the former won out. “Actually, you know what, a show could be fun. The episodes are what, thirty minutes? Shorter than Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones.”

Damian groaned while Dick responded happily, ignoring his brother’s distress, “Around twenty minutes actually. We could have the whole show finished in about a week or so.”

Damian turned to her, eyes wide and hopeful. “Marinette, please tell me you are on my side?”

She patted her boyfriend’s arm, “Sorry, mon amour, I’m stuck either way. Might as well watch a show.”

Damian flopped against the couch with a pout. “Betrayed. I have been grievously betrayed by my own brothers and girlfriend. What is this world coming to?”

“Woo!” exclaimed Dick, a wide grin splitting his face. “This is going to be great.”

“This is going to be awful,” moaned Damian.

-0-0-

It took a bit of convincing on the part of Dick to get Bruce and Alfred to agree to the venture. Marinette, after learning the full details of the last two Family T.V. Events, was wholly unsurprised. She also did not know the full extent of what Dick did to get Jason to agree (apparently, he and Bruce were fighting, again, so this was expected.) although it probably involved a bribe. But by the week’s end, the entire family was together, all under strict orders (and puppy-dog eyes from Dick) to be on their best behavior.

Which, without a doubt, not a single one of them knew what that entailed.

The arguing started with seating placement, then about who controlled the remote, then over the distribution of snacks, drinks, blankets, and pillows. At one point Jason pulled a knife, which prompted Damian to pull his knife, suddenly Cass had two shurikens visible (where she even kept them while wearing a tank top and shorts, no one could say), and then everyone was yelling with sharp pointy objects in hand.

Once the argument was firmly under control, Alfred collected the weapons and placed them in a wicker basket, along with all the mobile devices, until the episodes for the night were finished. The only one allowed to have a phone was Barbara who was in charge of checking police scanners for any major trouble while the family took the evening off.

Marinette seated herself curled up against Damian on the edge of the couch. She set her foot propped up on an ottoman so it wouldn’t get jostled, and she could continue to ice it throughout the evening. Damian secured their own bowl of popcorn, so they didn’t have to share it with the others.

“Alright, here’s how we’re breaking this down,” announced Dick, who won the battle for the remote, and therefore the episode schedule. “The episodes are short, at least, much shorter than the last show we watched.” He directed a pointed look at Jason.

“I make no apologies.”

“We’ll watch half a season a day, ten episodes apiece. The closed captions will be on but try to keep the chatter to a minimum.” Marinette held back a laugh. Damian explained no one kept quiet during these nights. Watching the show wasn’t the point of these events; if that were the case then they would just watch it all on their own time. The point was the time spent together. This is why even Bruce, emotionally constipated and single-minded in his pursuits as he was, put away the suit for a few days to watch T.V. with the rest of his collected family. Talking was expected.

“We will, if you will,” called Stephanie.

“I take offense to that.”

“Aw just sit Dickie, let’s watch the show,” exclaimed Jason.

“Yes, Grayson you already wrapped us into this pointless venture; we might as well get it over with,” Damian grumbled. Marinette found his hand in the folds of their shared blanket and laced her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand, and, when he was sure no one else was looking gave her a small smile. Marinette smiled back, he pretended to be such a grouch, but deep down he was a giant softy at heart.

Dick frowned, saying “Fine, fine, you don’t have to be spoilsports about it.” And pointed the remote at the T.V. starting the first episode.

-0-0-

It didn’t take ten seconds before the commentary began.

“Four elements?” exclaimed Tim. “Are you serious? I could name at least a dozen off the top of my head. How are there only four nations? 0/10 completely unrealistic. Political infighting alone-”

“Ah, shut up, replacement.”

“Ruthless fire nation?” said Stephanie. “Methinks a little propaganda might be occurring here.”

“A hundred years!? What, has no one competent been born the entire time?”

Marinette shrugged. “The disadvantages of finite magic systems, Dami. It's learned indifference.”

“Honey, after a hundred years that’s not hoping, that’s naivety,” said Stephanie in response to Katara’s impassioned speech.

“She’s right!” exclaimed Dick.

“We know that, but she doesn’t.”

The show moved on to Katara and Sokka in a boat. Sokka held a spear above the water.

“Is he hunting that fish?” growled Damian.

“Ah yeah, I forgot you may hate the entirety of Sokka’s character,” said Dick with a grimace. “Whoops.”

“She’s not very good at the water moving, is she?” asked Marinette

“Waterbending,” Dick and Barbara said in unison.

Sokka chided Katara about her weird water magic. “Oh, he’s not going to be a dick for the whole show, is he?” asked Steph.

“He gets better.”

“They grew up here right?” asked Damian, as Katara and Sokka become caught in a rapid. “How did they not anticipate an event like this.”

“I knew I should have left you at home. Leave it to a girl to screw things up!”

“HEY!” shouted all the women in the room.

They watched as Katara’s fury built and broke the iceberg behind her.

“Good. Use anger, anger is alright,” Cass commented for the first time.

“Okay, you’ve gone from weird, to freakish.”

“This punk is just asking for a beating isn’t he,” growled Jason.

The beam of energy shot into the air after Katara and Sokka broke open the ice. “That’s not going to cause any trouble,” said Tim, rolling his eyes. “Nope, not suspicious or completely conspicuous at all.”

The scene switches to a metal ship.

“Finally! Uncle, do you realize what this means?”

“Oh, look, the bad guys,” deadpanned Tim. “I was right.”

Jason grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth “What happened to his fucked-up fa-”

“YOU’LL FIND OUT!”

The scene switched back to Katara and Sokka. The figure is revealed to be a hyperactive little kid.

Damian frowned“Oh, I won’t like him either, will I Grayson?”

Dick tilted his head, “Eh.”

Then Appa is introduced.

“Father, could we-”

“No, Damian.”

They watched the children depart, and the scene moved back to the Fire Nation ship.

“Even if you're right, and the Avatar is alive, you won't find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed.”

“Well considering the Airbender child has been in an iceberg, it’s not surprising they failed.”

“Because their honor didn't hinge on the Avatar's capture. Mine does. This coward's hundred years in hiding are over.”

“Is it just me or does this angry, emo prince remind anyone of demon spawn?”

“Todd, shut your mouth before I remove your tongue.”

Marinette leaned in close, “Maybe just a little like you.” Damian looked at her with a betrayed pout.

The scene switched and they watched Aang lie to Katara about the Avatar.

“The air child is guilty. Will cause problems later.”

“Narrative Cass, it’s narrative.”

Damian scoffed. “Miscommunication is plot convenience, and it’s a sloppy one at that.”

They watched Aang’s dream of how he ended up in the iceberg, him waking up to Katara and his introduction to the village.

“Well, no one has seen an Airbender in a hundred years. We thought they were extinct until my granddaughter and grandson found you.”

“Extinct?”

“He went into the ice and woke up to find the world different. Anyone getting serious Captain America vibes here?” said Jason, tone-deaf to the clear horror on Aang's face.

“Jason, he just found out his people potentially went extinct!” chided Marinette.

“It's not for stabbing! It's for air bending.”

“Please tell me the main character is not a pacifist,” begged Damian.

“Well, he is a monk,” said Barbara with a sorry look.

“I sense he's filled with much wisdom,” Katara says as Aang sticks his tongue to his staff and it freezes.

“I switch back and forth between liking this girl and not. One second she’s got gumption, and the next she’s all starry-eyed and naïve,” grumbled Steph.

“I wonder who that reminds me of,” Damian whispered into Marinette’s ear. She felt her cheeks heat up.

"I'm not naive," she shot back.

He raised a hand with two fingers close but not touching, "You're a little naive." Marinette huffed, but silently admitted to her boyfriend's point. She had a tendency to believe the best in people; she saw it as a strength and appreciated it in this Katara character, but it was so far from how Damian viewed the world, it honestly confused his siblings when they first started dating.

Damian confided in her that he found it inspiring. She had been through so much, understood the cruelties of others, and still could see the good in people.

The scene switched to the Fire Nation ship again, and Iroh explained the concept of firebending to an irate Prince Zuko.

“Finally, a display of actual competence,” exclaimed Damian.

“Enough! I've been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set! I'm more than ready!”

“My tutors would have skewered me if I dared to act in such a manner,” he commented again, softer than the first time. More so that only Marinette could hear. Damian’s family was more than aware of his childhood and what it entailed; Marinette slowly learned with comments like this. She squeezed his hand again and received a small smile.

The scene shifted back to the village where Sokka’s failed “warrior lesson” occurred, and then-

“We don't have time for fun and games with the War going on!”

“What war? What are you talking about?”

“Where have you been, frozen in ice for a hundred years?” joked Dick.

They watched Aang offer to take Katara to the North Pole to find a water bending master. The two children go and play with the penguin creatures, but the tone shifted when an old Fire Nation ship appeared on the screen.

“Bad ship” muttered Cass.

“If you want to be a bender, you have to let go of fear.”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to start,” said Tim.

They watch Aang and Katara enter the Fire Nation Ship and wander talking about the war.

“Aang, how long were you in that iceberg?”

“I don't know. A few days, maybe?”

“I think it was more like a hundred years!”

“Are you kidding me?” yelled Jason. “How are they just figuring this out now?”

On-screen Aang stepped on the line of wire, tripping the traps.

“Tt. Amateurs.”

"See, she told him it would be a bad idea!"

A flare rises through the air.

“That’s not going to cause any-”

“Oh, shut up Tim.”

The Fire Prince once again appeared on the screen.

“The last Airbender!”

“I was right,” he mumbled.

The screen faded to the credits, and Dick turned to the group.

“So? What do you think?”

“Slow.”

“Nobody has any sense.”

“Are any of the characters actually likable?”

He frowned. “Okay, okay, so the first episode isn’t the best. I swear it gets better. Back me up here Barb.”

Barbara nodded. “He’s right, it takes a few episodes to build the characters up and we see some genuine action. But by mid-season, I swear you’ll be hooked. And then we’ll get to season two and the best characters will arrive.”

“Hey,” Dick exclaimed, pointing a finger at her. “No spoilers.”

“I thought it was fun,” Marinette offered. “It’s very clearly a kid’s show, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She wasn’t going to say each and every person in the room had childhood traumas, and a show full of lighthearted fun was probably just what they needed. She could think it, but she wouldn’t say it.

“Thank you, Marinette,” said Dick with a smile.

“I rather enjoyed the elderly tea drinker,” intoned Alfred. “He’s more than he appears to be.”

“Uncle Iroh? Yeah, he’s the best!” commented Barbara. "But everyone is great."

“Alright, episode one finished, nine more to go.”

“Let’s hope it’s more enjoyable than the last,” uttered Damian, a chorus of agreement followed his statement, but when the show started up everyone grew quiet again.

Marinette was sure whatever happened next, it was bound to be interesting.

Tag List (Although it is on ao3 too)

@m3owww @your-resident-chimken-nuggie @loveswifi @fusser90@animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #damianette #marinnette dupain cheng x damian wayne #mlb x dc #characters watch the show #maribat watching atla

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

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Around the Carousel

Catch me joining Damian Wayne Week after it started with some impulse fics. This is for day 2 (I almost made it to actually posting on the 14th my time). I selected the: Undercover prompt.

Summary: Bruce and Damian go undercover at a school fair. They're supposed to be investigating, instead they stop to enjoy themselves.

AO3 Link

Bruce tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled down at Damian as the boy adjusted his hat. It was the third time he’d done it in ten minutes as the wind kept pulling at it, trying to tease it off his head.

It was a windy night for them to be out. A steady breeze blew through fair stalls, kicking up banners and tablecloths, and threatening to blow papers and smaller items off of tables. It cut the late Spring heat in a nice way, making the night mild and perfect for a school fair. Which, was exactly where they were at.

“If you’d like, I can carry that for you.” Bruce said.

Damian dropped his hands and looked up at Bruce, “I am fine, Fa--Uncle Matches. It is not bothering me.”

“Alright, whatever you say, kiddo.” Bruce smiled, “You wanna adjust those glasses while you’re at it?”

His son frowned, his nose wrinkling, and sending the glasses sliding a little further down it. It was unreasonably cute. Bruce held up his phone and snapped a photo of his son. The flash went off and when Bruce dropped his phone Damian was looking surprised.

“For posterity's sake.” Bruce explained, examining the picture, it had caught Damian’s expression perfectly.

He attached it to a text and sent it to Dick, anticipating a response of jealousy from his eldest. Dick was in Bludhaven, working his own case, and had to bow out of joining the Matches boys as they went undercover.

“Uncle Matches, are you planning to spend all night looking at your phone or are we to explore the fair? You promised to examine my entry for the art exhibit.”

How Damian had managed to get a piece in an art exhibit at a school he didn’t even attend Bruce was still figuring out. Apparently he’d had Oracle hack into the system and create a profile and enrollment information for one Matthew “Matches” Malone. Damian’s art was set up under the moniker Lil’ Matches, and even thinking about it made Bruce smile.

“Of course, lead the way.”

Damian nodded, the action shaking his glasses loose again. Bruce bit back a smile. It was Damian who’d insisted on going the Clark Kent route with glasses and selecting clear ones to help obscure their identities, instead of the normal shades that paired with the Matches persona. It would be hard to defend sunglasses at a fair that took place mostly after dark.

It had been a good call, so far no one had recognized them in their suits and glasses, and they’d been able to enter the fair and purchase game tickets with ease.

His kid adjusted the glasses again, turned on his heel and began to lead Bruce. He followed at a leisurely pace, enjoying the lights strung across stalls, the smell of food frying, and the calls of students manning games and trying to get them to use their tickets to purchase sketches or experiences.

“I believe our target is one of the art students. Most have been asked to spend time by their pieces at the exhibit.” Damian explained as he walked.

“What time is their slot?” Bruce asked, eyes catching on a bottle toss game.

“He should arrive in approximately an hour.”

“An hour you say?” Bruce hooked an arm around Damian’s shoulders and spun him back towards the bottle toss, “Then why don’t we spend some time enjoying the fair, my dear nephew?”

Damian stopped and looked up at him with open surprise, “But we are on a case?”

“At a school fair. The likes of which I don’t think you’ve ever properly attended. Didn’t the one at your school get interrupted?”

“No.”

Bruce frowned, “You didn’t go, I remember that. What happened?”

His son looked down at the ground, fascinated by the way dust coated his shoe, “There was a Scarecrow attack the night prior. I--was incapacitated by it.”

He remembered now. Damian had taken a dose of toxin for Tim when his brother’s mask had cracked. Both of them had been down for a while, but Damian had been exposed longer than Tim by the time Batman and Spoiler had arrived. He’d been shaky and sick for days after.

Bruce squeezed Damian’s shoulder, “All the more reason to enjoy this one.”

He tried not to think about how Dick would have remembered right away and not pushed the subject, or how even if he had fallen in this pit he’d have figured out how to cheer Damian right away, “We can afford some distraction, you don’t want to be bored for an hour do you?”

Damian hummed, and glanced up, “I would not be opposed to trying a game or two.”

“Perfect, let’s start with the ring toss.” Bruce smiled.

They traded in some tickets for both of them to get a chance at the ring toss. The operator pointed at some green rimmed bottles, “Get at least three rings on the green and you’ll win a prize. If both of you get three onto green you can get one of the big ones or two smaller prizes.”

They had four chances each. Bruce glanced at Damian. He was focused, feeling the weight of the rings in his hands, and eyeing the bottles like he was doing the math in his head calculating what it would take to get them perfectly in place.

After a moment Damian tossed the first ring, it caught at the edge of one of the green bottles and slipped off. He frowned at it, nodded, and then tossed his remaining three in quick succession. All three landed around bottles.

Bruce grinned, and looked up to see the surprise on the operator's face. His son was extraordinary, and Bruce loved seeing him show off.

He took his own time tossing his rings, landing three as well, and missing his last. He shrugged, not minding missing one. They still met the requirements for the big prize.

“Well, kiddo, what do you want?” He asked.

Damian looked up at the racks of plushes hanging from the top of the booth, considering. He pointed at two of the smaller ones. One was a dog dressed as Batman, with a little cowl and cape, and the other was a duck wearing a green deerstalker cap, with a small magnifying glass attached to one of its wings.

The operator handed Damian both animals with a smile, “Good choices, looks like you’re a fan of detectives.”

“Yes.” Damian said, “I am, as is my brother. He will enjoy the duck. Thank you for the diverting game, and best of luck with others.”

As they walked away, Damian handed Bruce the duck, “I trust you to keep an eye on this.” he said, “If you lose it Timothy will be terribly disappointed. I cannot miss bringing him a souvenir twice in a row.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s not for Dick?”

“Tt, I would have selected a different animal for him, perhaps an elephant or bird.” Damian fiddled with one of the ears of the cowl on his dog, “I promised Timothy a prize if I won one last time, it was supposed to be in exchange for driving Jon and I. Even though the event did not happen, he might still enjoy one from here.”

“I’m sure he will.” Bruce said, resisting the urge to tug Damian into a tight hug, “What would you like to do next? That didn’t take us very long.”

His son looked around the fair, “Perhaps we could try one of the rides? Is there one you particularly enjoy?”

Bruce looked up around them, the fair had a variety of rides. The school had managed to hire a good selection, including a carousel. Bruce pointed at it, they could just see the pointed top from where they were.

“The carousel, you’ll love it.”

This time Bruce led, with Damian close by his side, as they walked, Bruce gave into the desire to reach down and take Damian’s hand in his own. When the boy looked up at him Bruce smiled, “It’s normal for families to do, especially in a busy place like this.”

The crowd wasn’t so thick Bruce was worried about losing Damian, but the move felt natural. He’d held his other children’s hands at events like this before, even Tim’s, though they’d gone well after the boy was the usual age for hand holding when wandering around an event. Damian didn’t seem too upset, in fact he gave Bruce’s hand a squeeze.

“That makes sense. As my Uncle you would be concerned for my safety and wish me to stay close.”

“Of course.” Bruce nodded.

Soon they reached the carousel. Bruce watched Damian with a close eye as they approached. Damian’s face went from cautious and curious, to delighted. There was something about being at the fair and undercover that seemed to let his son react a little more openly than he might if they were somewhere else. Bruce contributed it to the magic of the night.

“It has animals?” he asked, looking up at Bruce.

“Yep, different types. Carousel horses and animals are actually a really unique type of art. There are some horses that have sold for tens of thousands of dollars.” He explained, “And some artists who spend their whole lives making just horses for them.”

Damian’s eyes had gone very wide now, his face open with childlike delight, “And we are allowed to ride them?”

“Most yes, this one probably isn’t as fancy as some, but if you’re interested I’m sure we can visit a few of the more famous ones. I bet Dick’s seen some really cool ones from when he was younger.”

The look on Damian’s face, of excitement and anticipation was enough to melt Bruce’s heart and say yes to anything the kid might ask. Bruce tugged him forward.

“Come on, let’s get in line.”

They didn’t have long to wait, just until the ride stopped and emptied off. From there, they traded in a few more tickets for a chance to ride. Damian wandered the whole of the ride before selecting a white horse with gold trimmings. Bruce took the brown one beside it. They’d taken so long selecting, that almost the moment after they were settled, the ride began to move.

Damian’s laugh when the horse he was on began to rise and fall along with the forward momentum of the carousel was like music. Bruce wanted to take him on every carousel in the world to keep hearing that laugh and seeing that smile.

“May we go again?” Damian asked, the moment the ride stopped.

“Of course.” Bruce told him.

After the second ride, they stepped off and back into the crowd. Bruce checked his watch, they still had some time to spare before they had to be at the art display. He glanced around and caught sight of some food stands.

“Have you had a funnel cake before?” He asked, elbowing Damian.

His son shook his head.

“Then we’re getting one.” Bruce declared, “They’re the perfect mix of fried dough and toppings. We’ve got enough time to enjoy one before getting back on track.”

Damian looked less excited by the prospect of fried dough, but agreed to try it. Soon, the two of them were seated at a picnic table with a funnel cake between them. It was topped with powdered sugar, chocolate, sprinkles, and even some whipped topping. Damian gaped at the concoction, but Bruce passed him a fork with confidence.

“You just have to go at it.” he explained, “Dig in and enjoy.”

His son snorted, “That sounds like something Richard would say.”

Bruce grinned at him, “It should, he told me the very same thing when he introduced me to funnel cakes.”

Together they managed to eat the entire funnel cake. As Bruce set his plastic fork down, he thought finishing it off might have been a mistake even if they weren’t in the middle of an undercover operation. His stomach felt heavy with grease, sugar, and bread.

“That was--a lot.” Damian said, finishing his bottle of water.

“Yes.” Bruce said, wiping at his fake moustache, “It was. But I think we’ll be fine. It’s about time to head over to the exhibit.”

He wanted to get there early enough to see Damian’s piece. The kid had been very secretive of what he’d been working on for it. Taking the project as seriously as he would have as if it were for his own school fair. Bruce wanted to be able to enjoy it before they disrupted everything.

They were here to catch one of the students in the act of trying to blackmail a teacher. Damian had gotten news of it from his friend Collin, letting him know that strange things were going down. After some research, Damian had found some discrepancies in grades with a few of the students, and noted one teacher withdrawing large sums of money on a regular basis. Not enough to make a kid rich, but enough to placate a teen who’d watched too much television.

Damian had brought the case to Bruce, and together they’d worked out that this would be the next best place to find the kid and teacher interacting in a public location. From what Bruce could tell, the teacher hadn’t done anything against his students, instead he seemed to be in the middle of an affair with a seperate teacher. The plan was to bust the student, or at the very least record the exchange and get it in the hands of the administration.

The teacher in question? One of the art instructors.

They tossed their trash into a bin and Bruce let Damian lead him over to where the art exhibit was put up. It was tucked in one of the further corners of the fair, out of the way of chaos, but on a busy enough route that plenty of people were stopping by to look at the art.

“Which one is yours?” Bruce asked.

“Ah, it is this here.” Damian led him to a painting hanging up on a temporary pillar.

It was a painting of the garden outside Wayne manor. Done in bright beautiful colors it looked like you could step right into the painting. Portions of the paint were raised up to create texture and shadows, like the petals on flowers. In one portion, Bruce could see Alfred the cat sleeping in a patch of sun.

“It’s gorgeous.” Bruce said, “the detail is incredible.”

Damian was blushing, “It is nothing, a quick painting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, I know you were working on this for hours.” Bruce told him, “Do you get to bring it home?”

“Yes.” Damian said, “I was not sure what to do with it.”

“We’ll hang it up, of course. There’s a spot in the library I think will work well. Some greenery in a very brown room.”

At this point, Damian’s ears had gone red, “If you are sure.”

Bruce nodded, “I am.”

They spent a little longer looking at Damian’s painting before they shifted to look at some of the other pieces on display. There were quite a few that were really good, and a number of interesting ones. Some looked as if they had been submitted just for a grade, but all in all it was enjoyable.

Bruce was busy looking over a self portrait when he felt a small sharp elbow jab him in the side. He looked up to see Damian staring at another young man. Probably about sixteen, who’d just walked into the display area.

“That him?” he asked.

Damian nodded, “Let us wait to see if he approaches Mr. Franklin.”

Bruce slipped his phone out of his pocket and played with it, as if he were taking general photos.

“Matches, why don’t you stand by your painting? I want to get a picture of you with it.” he said, affecting a delighted uncle voice, “I’m sure your dad would love to see it.”

They moved over to the painting, and Bruce aimed the phone as he walked. Mr. Franklin was situated just behind the pillar with Damian’s painting on it. He snapped a few pictures of Damian, directing the kid to smile and pose, before slipping the phone’s setting over to video. He shifted slightly so that Franklin was in frame and hit record.

After a moment, the other boy approached him. Bruce inched forward to make sure he could get sound, and glanced over at Damian. The kid was hurrying away, off to find a separate teacher to bring over and hopefully stumble on the blackmail scene.

The exhibit was a good place to meet as Franklin was in charge of it and there wasn’t any reason for other teachers to wander over unless they were just checking things out. Most were too busy for that, with their own booths and class exhibits to care for.

Thankfully, Bruce did catch the conversation clearly from where he was. He hoped that no one would notice he’d stopped recording his kid, and started just recording the area. If he had to, he’d just say it was b-roll for a home video or something.

It wasn’t very long before Damian came back, a teacher at his heels. Bruce shifted the camera subtly back towards Damian’s painting.

“And here is my Uncle Malone. He can vouch for my skills if my piece does not convince you.” Damian was saying.

The teacher opened her mouth to say something, and then suddenly the boy speaking to Mr. Franklin shouted, “This is not what we agreed on!”

“I’m sorry--” she said, “Matches, Mr. Malone I’ll be right back.”

With that, she split from them to intervene on the argument. Bruce stopped his recording, and sent the video to Oracle who was going to forward it to the school.

“Well, that should take care of that.” Bruce said, turning to Damian, “How about we enjoy the rest of the fair? We’ve still got tickets, and there’s some rides we haven’t tried yet.”

Damian nodded, “That sounds acceptable. This fair has been, quite fun. And I am enjoying spending time with you.”

Bruce grinned, and tugged Damian into a hug, “Me too.”

“We should do the carousel again.” Damian said, stepping away to take Bruce’s hand, “And after that there is something that apparently spins you at such a speed you are stuck to the wall.”

“Oh? Well, lead the way, we’ll go until I feel like I’ve had a full patrol.”

Damian grinned at that, and Bruce felt his heart soar. He was going to have to figure out other ways of getting them undercover to things like this. Or just take Damian out to fairs more often as father and son.

#damianwayneweek2021 #Damian Wayne #Bruce Wayne #undercover #day 2 #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #like this is just an excuse for Bruce and Damian to hang out #it's kind of also Damian has a good day #but they are undercover as Matches and Lil Matches #becauase it's ADORABLE #precious posts #fanfiction

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artxyra · 4 years

Note

What if Damian and the miraculous class are friends and they have movie nights, but since Damian is in Gotham he sneaks out of the manor and portal via Max & Kalki to participate. The Fam get suspicious and try to figure out where Damian is going every week. When they find out he goes to Paris they try to follow him but the portal closes and they use the tubes instead. They end up crashing in on them watching a horror movie which freaks the class out. Insert yelling and things being thrown.

To: Demon From: Angel

Are we still on for movie night?

To: Angel From: Demon

Yes. Just need to get away from the family.

To: Demon From: Angel

😀

Marinette looks over smiling from her phone. Today is a good day. There were no akuma that needed Ladybug’s attention, nor had she broken up a fight between Max and Kim about the latest game. So yes, she was ecstatic to know this is how her day is going.

“Hey Mars, is Damian coming tonight?” Adrien asks seating next to her playing with a strand of his hair. Ever since he came out to her, their relationship has blossomed beyond a crush to a blooming brother-sister relationship. That and Luka were more than willing to take on the blonde without a second thought. She kind of feels bad for Juleka having to see Adrien on a near-daily basis and with her brother no doubt.

“Yup,” Marinette continues to smile, “I just received word that he’s good to go. All we need is for Kaalki and Max to open up a portal at the designated time.”

“Sweet, I hear that Kim was the one picking out this week’s movie. I hope it’s nothing horror-related.” Adrien pouts causing Marinette to laugh that the poor kitty’s face.

“I’m sure it’s nothing too crazy.” Marinette hopes that it was something simple to follow and an action pack rather than horror. She may love horror games but kwami be damn if she watches a horror movie in the dark that wasn’t comedic.

“It looks like break is almost over, we’ll continue you this later.” Adrien sends Marinette a comforting smile before jumping down into his assigned seat next to Nino. Alya and Nino just walked in holding hands.

“Hey, lovebirds, who’s ready for a night full of fun?” Alya greets the two causing them to roll their eyes at the nickname that no longer pertains to them.

“Hey Als, I should be asking you that instead.” Marinette lifts an eyebrow that accompanies her smirk. Nino and Alya’s faces turn red and they side glance each other. Marinette and Adrien laugh at the couple.

“After class, I’ll be giving a quick speech regarding tonight’s plans,” Marinette states pulling out her classwork and books for class. They all nod in understanding. Just then the rest of the class filed in with matching smiles and asking pertaining to tonight’s activities.

To: Angel From: Demon

Save me from the idiots that I call my brothers?

To: Demon From: Angel

Can’t love, I’m sure it not that bad.

To: Angel From: Demon

For some idiotic reason, they are watching me like a hawk today. I’m currently in the bathroom with the doors locked listening to them bicker outside.

To: Demon From: Angel

Yikes 😬. I’m sure it will die down before you’re required to leave.

To: Angel From: Demon

I doubt that.

To: Demon From: Angel

About that, why did we move our weekly movie night from Saturday to Friday?

To: Angel From: Demon

It’s a half-day at school.

Shit. Talk to you later.

Marinette places her phone down and slowly turns her attention to Mme. Bustier. The red-haired teacher tried to keep her students engaged with the content, but she was losing them faster than on average. Marinette turns to her classmates. Alix and Kim were trying to out strength each other, Juleka and Rose was trying to pay attention but the drooping in Rose’s eyes say otherwise, Sabrina and Chloe—well doing what they usually do—living in their own bubble, Nathaniel was sketching something down in his notebook while Max was pretending to take notes as Markov does it for him. Finally, Mylene and Ivan were also in their own world.

Hours seemed to past in Marinette’s mind before Mme. Bustier concluded today’s lesson. She was so caught up in watching the time that she didn’t realize that was sketching an outfit in her own notebook. Whoops.

“Marinette is there something you would like to add?” Mme. Bustier prompts sending the class’s designated designer a smile.

“Yes,” Marinette gets up from her seat and walks down to the podium. “Tonight is our weekly movie night instead of tomorrow. Do you remember what to bring? If not, please message me before the event. Remember that we are having this event at Chloe’s family’s hotel as it a makeshift theatre room.”

“Daddy says we can have the popcorn maker also.” Chloe interrupts. The class cheers at the thought of the infamous popcorn maker that was usually locked behind the hotel kitchen doors.

“Thank you, Bee, for that tidbit. Now, Max, you are to arrive at the bakery no later than six o’clock. The demon is having a half-day today and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that he’ll want to be here no later than that. Everyone else, you are free to do.” With that and a pretend gavel, Marinette dismisses the class to their next class for the day.

For Damian, being at school felt like a blessing even if it was a half-day. His brothers have been hounding him all morning. It’s like they are looking for something that isn’t there. Damian’s emotions? Yeah right, they all know he only shows emotions to his beloved animals or animals in general. Damian had to double, triple check the security on his phones because who knows what Drake would find if he had access inside it.

For over six months, he had been going to Paris for movie nights with his beloved and her classmates. At first, he had done it through the zeta tubes but after gaining their trust just enough to be in on the Miraculous Team of Paris, his trips became a lot more frequent. He would make up an excuse about going to a classmate, or Jon’s, house for the night, or to work on a school project. He had gotten away with it for a while, but Tim was the first to notice the lie.

Tim and Conner were having their usually meet up when the Damian had told his family that he was spending time at Jon’s, something that was no unusual. All was fine and dandy until Jon came home with a Damian Wayne. Tim, well it was mainly Dick, had grilled into the young hero about Damian’s whereabouts. Jon either lied or literally had no idea. Which prompted the Batbros to start the search on Damian's weekly disappearance.

Everyone took the day off to “spend time” with Damian. They wanted to trap the teen inside the manor and watch his every movement. Like that isn’t an invasion of privacy or trust.

Alfred brought Damian to the manor around noon. This gives them enough time to hide any open-source of weaponry they could find or items that Damian could use against them in battle. That was a lot of items on the list. Dick inquired for Bruce to hold off on the tracking device as a last resort. He wanted to start everything out with a discussion, but Jason laughs that idea out the window as he cleans his guns.

“The young master is residing in his bedroom,” Alfred speaks walking down into the Batcave.

The Wayne family knew this was it.

To: Angel From: Demon

I’m ready.

To: Demon From: Angel

ETA in 5

Damian smirks at his phone. He loves his girlfriend and how quickly she can manage an entire group of classmates and plan a weekly movie night event.

He had packed his belonging that he usually brings with him when he does to Paris. Which isn’t much.

Four minutes.

Damian thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but they weren’t. He could hear the stampede of footsteps that were no doubt from his family members aside from Alfred. Alfred’s footsteps are like a ghost, you never hear them.

Three minutes.

“Hey little D, since you had a half-day today, why don’t you spend it with us,” Grayson asks the second his bedroom door swings open. Alfred the cat sends a glare to his owner’s family.

“Yeah, Demon spawn, we all took the day off to spend time with you,” Jason adds gas to the fire that was already burning intensely.

“Damian…” Not his father too.

Two minutes.

Damian doesn’t say a word. His eyes bounce from one person to the next and repeat. He didn’t know who to answer them. “Tt.” Was the only word? Sound? That had escaped his lips.

“You need to leave like now.” Damian refuses to have his family find out the very secret he had kept hidden for so long. His quick need for them leaving only pushes them to stay. Worried about various reasons from teen problems to joining the League of Assassins again. They didn’t want to take any chances.

One minute.

Damian could sense the user of the horse kwami becoming active. Soon a blue swirling portal opens up behind Damian. Damian looks at his family and side glances at the portal. The portal wins. The family of vigilantes runs to the portal only for it to close.

“Am I hallucinating or did that just happen?” Tim asks wiping the sleep away from his eyes.

“No, replacement, that really just happened.” Jason states. Tim nods in understanding.

“I’ll do track him down.” Dick sulks at the thought that Bruce was right.

It didn’t take long for the results to come in.

“Uh…so how the hell is the Demon in Paris, France of all places?” Jason shouts from behind his older brother and Bruce.

“The swirling portal thingy?” Tim states the obvious, but it sounded more like a question as he sits down and drinks a cup of coffee.

“Boys we’re going to Paris.” Bruce states over his sons. From afar, Alfred sighs and goes to prepare the zeta tubes with the destination in mind.

“Uh, civvies or uniform?” Dick asks as they all start to make their way to the zeta tube. This was one of those questions that they linger on for a hot minute.

Before they knew it, Damian had gained an hour over his family.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to know where the little demon has been hiding all this time.” Jason screeches talking over to the zeta tube and teleporting to the location.

Bruce turns to the remainder of his sons who shrugged and follow suit.

Entering Paris, they were further from Damian’s location than anticipated. They follow the tracker with some interruptions. Dick wanted to buy something for Kori, Jason wanted food and Tim needed for coffee. After all that was done, they officially made it to the supposed location of Damian’s whereabouts.

“Why would the little demon at a hotel?”

“Hum, this coffee is really good,” Tim says before taking another sip.

“Boys, focus on the mission.”

“I am focus, Bruce.”

“I didn’t say you were, Dick.”

“Touché.” Dick rubs the back of his arm.

They enter Le Grand Paris with tensions high and were surprised by how calm and relax the employees were. Jason swears this was just a hoax and they were torturing Damian behind one of these doors. An employee asks them if they are in need of anything. Bruce states that they were looking for his son.

“Is he friends with Chloe and her classmates?” The employee asks.

“Who?” Dick and Bruce ask simultaneously. Jason had dragged Tim off somewhere to look at some things.

The employee eyes the family skeptically.

“Well if he’s not friends with Mlle. Bourgeois, then I suggest heading to the police department and report a missing child.” The employee states before walking away. Bruce sighs and pulls out the tracking device. Damian is so close to them.

“We’re going to find him, right?”

“And drag the brat back to Gotham?”

Bruce in the direction that would be location, he gestures for his children to follow.

Damian was having a blast. In his arms, Marinette sat on his arm clinging to his shirt cursing Kim’s name throughout the film. Kim had chosen a horror movie for tonight’s showing and by kwami it was fantastic. There was no comedic relief, actual horror storytelling leaving the class on the edge of their seats.

Adrien was curled next to Marinette in Luka’s arms. He was also clinging to a body, a certain musician as if he was a frightened kitten.

Just as the MC was about to open the door to the attic, a series of figures jump from the ceiling. Screams in real-life match those within the movie. Popcorn, empty cartons of candy, soda drinks are thrown at the figures. A string of curses follows not long after that.

“Damian, tell your friends to stop.” He knows that voice from anywhere, it was Grayson’s voice. Marinette slides herself off himself.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He screeches in English. Most of the class didn’t have a clue what was being said.

“We wanted to see where you were?”

“We thought you were kidnapped?”

“I just came for the scenery.”

Damian’s eyes twitch.

“That’s nice and all, but can you move? We’re trying to watch a movie here and you’re ruining it.” Chloe stands up demanding the bat-family to move. They all look to one another before subtly moving away from the screen.

Damian places a quick kiss on Marinette’s cheek and guides his family out of the room. He was not happy that they came in ruining his night with Marinette. Now he has to make up for it with something romantic, not that he’ll do it anyway.

“What made you believe that I was kidnapped?” He asks, the second they were out of the room.

“The portal thingy.”

“You not answering any of our questions.”

Damian breathes through his nose. “You’re all idiots.”

“Well movie night is a bust, but we all agree to stay here to continue rather than going home.” Marinette walks into the hall after a moment of them talking—well it was more of a screaming match between Bruce and Damian with some input from Dick. “Will your family be fine without you for a couple more hours?”

“Habibti, these dunces are my family,” Damian states gesturing to his family,

Marinette nods, “Well then, hello, and can we keep Damian for the night?”

Damian walks over to Marinette and wraps his arms around her. “I’ll return from before it’s nightfall in Gotham, father.”

“Uh, sure. Boys lets go.” Bruce accepts the came and walks down the hall. Before either of the brothers could pester Damian about this newfound relationship, Bruce gave them all the bat-glare and demanded that they follow.

“You know you’re going to get pestered, right.” Marinette laughs.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, we have a movie to finish.”

With that, Damian takes Marinette’s hand and walks back into the room.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #daminette

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

Summoning Ritual (2/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial @zphilophobiaz @queencommonsense @edenspolaroids @bonzhur @silverw19 @sleepingwithsirensfangirl1 @red-for-harleen Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You try a summoning ritual, optimistically hoping to be reunited with your parents, but somehow end up in Gotham. At Wayne Manor. Doesn't this stuff only exist in comic books and television? Word Count: 1.5k

Part One Part Three

It'd been a week and you heard nothing. A week running around the Wayne Manor – okay it could be worse, this was like a dream – but you just wanted answers. You wanted to be home. How could the spell have gone so wrong? You stumbled down the stairs and wandered into the kitchen to see Alfred making breakfast.

"Good morning Miss Y/N. I'm afraid you won't have company this early. It was a rather late night for our caped crusaders."

You gave a faint smile, still forcing the sleep from your eyes. "No worries Alfred. You're all the company I need." Your eyes shot down to the cup of coffee placed before you. "They haven't found out anything, have they?" Cradling the mug, you looked up at him, hope bursting through your eyes.

"I would not know miss." That wasn’t the answer you wanted.

"They would tell me though…right?" The question was pointless, you knew them well enough to know the answer, but you asked anyway.

"I am sure they will tell you what they can."

You let out a deep sigh, the diplomatic answer. You weren't really sure what you were expecting, but that didn’t help. An awkward amount of time passed before you decided to speak up again.

"Do you think I could get out of here for a bit? Go to a coffee shop or something? It's 9 am. Gotham can't be that bad at 9 am." You were trying to reason with Alfred as much as you were trying to reason with yourself. You've read the stories.

"I do not wish you to feel a prisoner, Miss Y/N. You may take whichever vehicle you like. But please also take this, it is equipped with a distress signal." Your eyes lit up as Alfred handed you the cellphone. Eagerly, you grabbed the device and headed for the garage. "Oh, and don't be gone too long. I fear Master Timothy would have my head."

"We wouldn't want that!" You called out behind you as you raced down the hallway.

Barely an hour had passed before Tim traipsed downstairs and into the kitchen. Alfred jumped at the sight of his half-asleep form rummaging through the cupboard. "Master Timothy, I did not expect you awake so soon. You only retired a few hours ago."

"Hm…unfortunately Wayne Enterprises doesn't acknowledge my nightly escapades." Tim shuffled towards the coffee machine, mug in hand. "And my presence is required on a conference call in 10 minutes." Tim's eyes shifted around the kitchen, "Where is Y/N?"

"She decided to get her coffee elsewhere this morning." Alfred's calm demeanor made it difficult to get angry, but Tim managed it anyway.

"SHE WHAT?! And you let her?!" His voice echoed through the room.

"She is not being held captive Master Timothy. We must let her forge her own way, especially when the answers she seeks are sparse."

"Do you know where she went?" Tim tried to regain his composure, after all, Alfred did have a point.

"I do not. I did, however, send her with a phone." Tim jumped out of his seat just as Alfred finished the sentence and raced to the nearest computer. It was only a matter of seconds before he had your location.

"She's standing in an abandoned building…" Unsure of the unusual results, he double-checked the information. When the same location appeared on the screen, Tim sat back in the chair with a puzzled look plastered across his face.

"Perhaps she is at a nearby intersection?" Alfred suggested upon seeing Tim's distress.

"Maybe…I'm going to check it out."

"Sir, your conference --" Tim was gone before Alfred could finish his sentence.

Tim found you standing in the middle of the abandoned building staring blankly into space. You seemed to be in a trance. "Y/N…" He whispered as he approached you. As Tim gently placed his hand on your shoulder, your vision went black. You slumped down, losing all feeling in your body as a scene played in your mind.

"Fuck Z, what are we going to do?! I can't…she can't --" He looked down, staring at the tiny hand wrapped around his finger.

"I know. We have to let her go."

"And what? Just hope and pray that that fucking demon doesn't find her?!"

"No. We send her somewhere else. A world where he is just a scary story. A myth." The raven-haired girl looked down at the child with an overwhelming sorrow in her eyes.

"A barrier even he can't break…" The scruffy blonde man mumbled, realizing what had to be done.

"We have to say goodbye. It's the only way." A dark void appeared behind them.

"Y/N…" the voice just barely broke through the scene which had begun replaying in your mind. "You're going to be okay." The next sentence came through clearly as the features of the abandoned warehouse formed around you.

"Tt…Tim?" Your voice cracked.

"Y/N!" Hope beamed through his voice. "An ambulance is on its way. Just stay still." Tim urged as he grasped at your hands.

"No…no. I'm fine." You weren't entirely sure how you got here or how long you had been there. Did Tim come with you? "I just want to go home. Can we go home?" You closed your eyes as you pulled yourself into his chest. The motion was instinctive, you didn't realize what you had done until you felt him pick you up.

The solemn silence lingered in the air the entire ride back to the manor. Neither one of you could bring yourself to say anything. What was there to say? As the car pulled into the driveway, you let out a long sigh, bracing yourself to move again. Only as the car stopped, your feet stopped working as well. As much as your mind willed it, your body didn't budge from the seat. Relief flooded over your body as Tim opened the car door and gathered you in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later, only vaguely aware of this morning's escapades. You turned on your side, trying to piece together the events and shook at the sight of someone else in the bed. The momentary fright subsided as you recognized Tim typing away on his computer.

"Uh…what happened?" You figured it must have been something bad since Tim apparently had left your side since.

"You're awake, how do you feel?"

"Dizzy and confused," you sat up and stared down at your hands, intertwining your fingers over and over again. "I remember an abandoned building. I don't even know how I got there, or what compelled me to go inside. "Then I heard your voice, and I woke up here."

"I got there, and you were just standing there. In the middle of the building. You looked as if the life had been drained out of you." Tim's voice hitched at the recollection. "As soon as I touched you, you collapsed. I was able to catch you just before you hit the ground."

"Was there…uh…was there anyone else in the room?" You urged him to continue, as two distinct faces plagued your memories.

"No…it was abandoned…" Tim furrowed his brows and shut his computer as he turned to face you. "Do you remember someone else?"

"I don’t know. I keep seeing these faces. They seem so familiar –"

Tim cut you off before you could continue. "Y/N, there's something you should know." Without thinking, he took your hands in his. "About your parents." He watched as a confused stare settled on your features. "They are from this world. My world.” He let out a sigh, preparing himself for your anger. “Zatanna and Constantine." Tim didn't need to say anymore, you knew those names. You knew those people.

"How long have you known?" You dreaded his answer, but you had to know.

"Since the day you got here." Your breathing grew heavy at his response, but before you could react, Tim continued. "I didn't want to tell you until we found them. We've put everyone on notice, and no one has seen them…well since you got here."

"And you didn't think that was important?!" You got up from the bed, unable to sit still any longer. "Did you think it was some coincidence?" You scoffed at your own question. "Of course, you didn't. You're better than that. We both know you're better than that so don't insult me."

"I didn't want to present you with another problem, okay!" Tim screamed back at you as he joined you in the center of the room. His voice sombered, "I wanted to give you answers. You deserve answers. And I don't have them." You could tell he was just as mad at himself. Then, as if almost on cue, Dick raced into the room.

"Enough with the lover's squabble! We found them." Apparently, your argument could be heard throughout the Manor. Dick motioned for you to follow him. All your emotions soured, and you didn't know how you were supposed to react. You stood there, like a deer in headlights, until you felt Tim's hand intertwine with yours.

"Whatever happens I'll be right here." He whispered to you before tugging you out of the room.

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wonderstvrs · 4 years

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Keep You Safe | Damian Wayne x Female!Reader

Damian hires a bodyguard for Reader without letting her know. Unfortunately, it does the complete opposite of what he intended it to do.

WORD COUNT: 3,274

WARNINGS: Strong language, Mentions of kidnapping, Mentions of alcohol, Violence

This was requested by my baby @sidewalk-sidekick. Thanks for being my first request babe uwu. I think I’m kind of worried that Damian is OOC, but you know what, that’s why I’m practicing. Damian is older than he is in the comics, around 19 or 20. I also really love New Alexandria (the bookstore/cafe mentioned here) so be prepared to be seeing that pretty often.

There is a man watching you.

You shifted in your seat, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his eyes on you. You were on your way to the monthly open-mic being hosted at New Alexandria, the bookshop/café that you worked at. As one of their baristas, you were required to work the event, which attracted a pretty big crowd that composed mostly of pretentious poets or sad writers having existential crises. As your boyfriend, Damian, would describe them.

Usually, he would take you to New Alexandria himself, driving one of the fancy cars you specifically remember his father told him to never touch. But tonight, he had some mandatory family thing at the Manor. You always tell him that you could get to shop yourself, that he didn’t come all the way into the city to pick you up. He always shut down your protests, claiming that it wasn’t safe for you to be out alone at night, especially in a city like Gotham. Eventually, you stopped arguing, silently grateful that you could avoid all the creeps that lurked on the streets.

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you try to stave off the panic threatening to overwhelm you. You tell yourself to relax. You were two stops away from the shop. Maybe if you don’t look at him, he won’t do anything. Right?

Not being able to help yourself, you take a look at the man with the corner of your eye. He was sitting a few seats behind you on your left. He had a plain black t-shirt with a black leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a green beanie on his head. If you didn’t know any better, he looked like any other person heading to open-mic.

What if he is just going to the open-mic and you’re being an overdramatic wimp? You take another look at him and wait. You recognized him. He was standing a few blocks from your apartment when you left earlier tonight. He was by the newsstand looking through this morning’s paper before he got into the bus with you.

Oh god. Are you going to die tonight? Shit. This man is going to kidnap you for ransom because he probably knows that you’re Damian Wayne’s girlfriend and then he’s probably going torture you while you wait and oh my god what if Damian won’t come for you what if—

Your thoughts are interrupted by your phone going off. You turn it over to see Damian’s name. Your finger hovers above the “Answer” button, debating on whether or not to answer it. You didn’t want to have to ruin his night if you told him about the guy. Maybe if you didn’t answer he’d think that you were at work already.

The need to hear his voice overwhelms that other part of you and you cave. You bring the phone to your ear and take a deep breath to collect yourself, focusing your attention on your boyfriend.

“Please save me from my family,” he says the moment the call connects. There were muffled screams from the background and what you think is Mario Kart music. The sound of the chaos makes you forget that, for a second, you could possibly be dead in the next few minutes.

“Is that Mario Kart?” You ask him, an amused laugh coming out of your mouth. He huffs on the other side. “And are you hiding out in the bathroom?”

“You would too if you had to suffer through Grayson’s high-pitched screeching,” he replies. You can practically see the expression of disgust on his face. You laughed again. There’s a pause from him before he says softly into receiver, “I wish I was with you instead.”

Your heart warms at the sincerity in his voice. Dick tells you that back then Damian wasn’t the type to freely profess his feelings. He had come a long way from the angry ten-year-old boy that Dick said he was. You knew firsthand how deeply Damian loved and the effort he makes in communicating his emotions.

“Me too,” you tell him, taking another peek at the man. The man had looked away from you and was staring out the window, seemingly admiring the view. You let out a breath of relief. Maybe he wasn’t following you. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

“Are you all right?” Damian asks. Worry tinged his voice and you didn’t need to see him to know that he’s frowning.

“Yeah, Dames. I’m fine.” The bus is slowing down and you look out to see the stop near New Alexandria. “The bus just got here. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” He pauses, then says, “Be safe.”

Over the last few months, you’ve learned that Damian says simple things, but with hidden meanings. It’s the most you’ve read in between the lines since your high school literature classes, but it paid off. You’re confident that you’re now fluent in Damian-speak.

What he says, “Be safe”. What he means, “I love you.”

You smile, heart so full of fondness for this grumpy man that you fell in love with. You tell him, “I love you too.”

“Tt. I didn’t say that,” he says.

You laugh, “It was implied.”

He scoffs again, but you know he’s smiling. The bus stops and you get up.

“Go, before you’re late again,” he orders. You tell him one final goodbye before you make your way out of the bus. Before you leave, you catch one last sight of the man, still seated with his eyes trained on the window beside him. Huh, maybe you were just overacting. With your heart still easy from the conversation with Damian, you get off the bus and make your way into New Alexandria.

“Is it just me, or was open-mic longer this time?” One of your co-workers, Rosalie, complains. You snort as you lifted a chair and put the seat on the table that you finished wiping. There were actually some really good poets tonight, some with thought-inducing work that would probably give you an existential crisis tonight. You place the last of the chairs on the table at the same time Rosalie rolls up the last of the microphone wires.

“I’m just glad to go home,” you tell her honestly. After the stalker scare, there was nothing that you wanted more than to curl up in your bed, sleep the night away, and wake up in Damian’s arms. You don’t know where he goes off to in the early morning, but you’ve learned not to question it. You trusted that he would tell you on his own time.

“Amen, sister.” Rosalie gives you a high-five as she passes by. You follow her into the backroom, where you hang both of your aprons, and get your things ready to go. Rosalie salutes you before she leaves, “Tell Boss that I’m heading out. I’ll lock the front.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” You grab your bag and head to the office room where your boss/friend was putting her things away. “Hey, Rose is closing the front.”

“Ugh, bless her. I really don’t feel like walking all the way to the front.” She zips up her bag and looks at you expectantly. “Ready to go?”

The two of you lived a block away from each other. You suspect Damian had something to do with it, probably because she was dating Jason, his brother. You were just happy that you didn’t have to walk home alone, especially tonight.

You nod and the two of you make your way to the back door after shutting off the rest of the lights. After securing the back, the two of you walked out of the alleyway and onto the streets of Gotham. You make your way to the deli stand a few blocks away from New Alexandria and get yourself some sandwiches.

“Hey, how’s that internship with that company going?” She asks you. You take a bite of your sandwich before answering.

“It’s pretty good. My supervisor is kind of a dick, but at least he’s actually teaching me things.”

“Hm. Let me know if you want me to kick his ass,” she tells you. You laugh at that, shaking your head. Taking another bite, you glance around taking in the city, only to choke. On the other street, there was that same man from the bus. He was wearing the same clothing and he was walking in the same direction they were, looking at you every once in a while. Oh god. So, you were being followed. Shit.

You didn’t realize that you had stopped in the middle of the street until your companion stopped beside you, patting your back gently.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concerned. You almost tell her that everything is fine, but you could see the man on the other side of the street. He had stopped and was leaning against the wall of a building, purposefully looking away from you. She follows your gaze and frowns. “What are you looking at?”

“Do you see that guy over there? The one with the green beanie?” You whisper to her. She takes a quick glance and nods, her face serious. You steel yourself as you say, “I think he’s been following me.”

Her face hardens as she takes in your words, “Are you sure?”

“I saw him near my building earlier tonight and he was on the same bus as me. He didn’t follow me into New A so I thought it was just a coincidence but now he’s here and he’s definitely following us. Oh my god. What are we going do? We’re going to die. We are going to d—”

“Hey, calm down.” She puts her hands on your shoulders. She was tense, looking at the man as discreetly as she could. She turns to you, face resolute and a little angry. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go my house and see if he follows us.”

“What?” You exclaim. “But then he’ll know where you’ll live!”

You’re confused. Why would she even suggest that? You look at her, her face steely with determination and her grip tight on your shoulder. You’re about to refuse, but something in your gut tells you that she was going to do it anyway.

“I don’t like this plan.”

She smirks a little, something you have definitely seen on Jason’s face. It was the same look that he had when he was about to do something really stupid and reckless—like pouring his drink on some drunk asshole who was flirting with her during open-mic and starting a fight.

“Trust me. It’ll be fine,” she says. She puts her arm around your shoulders and begins walking again.

Soon enough, you pass by your apartment building. You cross the street and walk a little further, until you recognize her apartment building a few feet from you. Before you could make your way to the steps, she pulls you into the nearby alleyway.

“What are you doing?” You ask her, confused and just a little bit afraid. She puts her finger to her lips and motions for her to back up against the wall. You follow, watching her as she peeks her head out to the street, a look of concentration on her face. Oh my god. Was she going to confront the stalker? Holy shit. She was fucking crazy. “Please don’t tell me that you’re going to do something stupid.”

She only smiles at you, “Relax. I’ll handle it.”

She turns back to towards the street. The next thing you know, she’s reaching out, grabbing the man’s arm and pulling him into the alleyway.

“Holy shit!” You yell as she pushes him to the other side of the wall. The man tries to swing at her, but she simply ducks and kicks at his private parts. You move a little further away as the man doubles in pain, his hands going down to cup them. “What the fuck?!”

She ignores you in favor of grabbing one of his arms, twisting it, and holding it against his back as she pushed him into the wall.

“Who are you working for?” She demands from him. The man doesn’t answer, only groaning in pain. She presses against the arm more, “I said, who are you working for?!”

“Wayne! Wayne! He hired me to look after her,” the man answers. What? You exchange confused looks with her. Why would Bruce Wayne hire a bodyguard for her? He’s never done that before, not even when you went on that vacation to Japan a few months back. As far as you know, Damian’s father…wait.

You stand a little closer to the two, “Bruce Wayne?”

“His brat,” the man answers. “He hired me to follow you and keep you safe. Said something about not trusting someone’s concubine to look after you.”

You hear a snort from the woman beside you. You look to see her rolling her eyes as she backs away and lets him go.

“Sounds like Damian,” she shrugs. She looks apologetically at the man, who was rubbing his arm while glaring at her, “Sorry about that. You freaked her out pretty bad.”

“Whatever,” he says. He looks at you with contempt in his eyes, “Can you just make your way home so I can get the hell out here?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll just say goodbye.”

He rolls eyes his eyes, but goes to stand out at the street. You turn to look at your friend with a raised eyebrow.

“What the hell was that?”

She laughs sheepishly, shrugging, “Jay taught me some self-defense moves for when I’m in trouble. They’re pretty basic, but I guess they worked, huh?”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Better not keep your knight-in-shining-armor waiting,” she says with a smirk. You roll your eyes at her and give her a little shove as she walks away from you. Oh, you are definitely going to have a talk with Damian about this.

The bodyguard walks you home in an awkward and stony silence. With one final goodbye, you head up to your apartment. You could barely walk up the two flights of stairs that lead to your place, the exhaustion of today’s events finally catching up to you.

Closing your door behind you, you drop your keys into the little bowl by the door and kick off your shoes. You head to the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on your lights.

“Hello, beloved.”

You almost choke on your water. Geez, what the hell was up with you and choking today? You turn around to find Damian lounging on your couch, smiling at you.

“Dames, what the hell? I almost drowned.”

He smiles at you, “I’m sorry. It’s a habit.”

You flip the light switch and stare at your boyfriend, arms crossed. You must have looked unamused because he stopped smiling and stood up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. He steps closer to you, frowning.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask the bodyguard that you apparently hired to watch me?”

At least he had the tendency to look a little sheepish.

“Yeah, oh.” You glare at him. “I thought I was going to get kidnapped, Damian. I almost had a panic attack on the damn bus.”

“I didn’t mean to cause you distress,” he says. He puts his hands on your arms, looking at you with sincerity. You can see the guilt in his eyes. He knew how anxious you tend to get in public spaces, especially when alone. He should have thought about what having someone watching you so intently would do to you. “I only meant to keep you safe.”

You sigh. Of course, you knew that. You had to admit that going out into the city at night, alone, was dangerous, especially in Gotham. There were so many crazy things going on in this city that he had a reason to worry about your safety. Still, you didn’t like that he felt the need to keep this from you. What if that person had turned out to be a real stalker? What if Jay didn’t teach his girlfriend self-defense and the both of you had been taken? That man had been an unknown variable, and you didn’t like not knowing who he might have been.

“I get it and I’m grateful that you thought of my safety. But, Dames,” you take his hands from your arms and hold it in yours. You look into his eyes so that he could see how serious you were about this, “You don’t have to feel the need to do it behind my back. I was so worried about what would’ve happened to me if he turned out to be a serial killer or a nutjob who was going to kidnap me. That bodyguard didn’t make me feel safe, if anything he scared me.”

You let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. He instinctively puts his hands on your waist, still looking at you. You could see the regret in his eyes and you hated to see him so downtrodden, but he needed to know this.

“I truly am sorry,” he tells you. You nod, letting him speak. “I was simply worried for your well-being. I hate sending you out there on your own without me beside you. I know Jason’s partner lives near you and she is fully capable of protecting the both of you, but I wanted you to be safe. I didn’t know how you’d react if I told you that I hired a bodyguard, so instead, I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” You tell him. He smiles at you and leans in. You let him, your eyes closing as you feel his lips press against yours. He pulls you in closer, pressing your body against his, and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It lasts for a while, neither of you willing to break it off. You did, though. The excitement of today’s events left you dead tired and there was nothing that you wanted more now than to just cuddle with Damian in bed until you fell asleep.

“Cuddle with me? At least until I fall asleep?” You ask him. He seems to consider it. You think that he’s weighing how late he could be to wherever he goes to in the middle of the night. You hope that he stays because he was really comfortable right now and you needed a little TLC.

He nods, “Of course.”

“Yay.”

After a few minutes getting ready for bed, you’re lying on your soft bed, your head on Damian’s chest and your legs tangled together. You close your eyes, sighing in content as Damian plays with your hair. The two of you reveled in the silence. You hope that the bodyguard wasn’t too sore from whatever she did to him. That reminds you….

“I think you should pay that guy extra. I don’t know that Jason taught her, but what she did looked like it hurt,” you mumble to him, half asleep. You feel his chest move his amused snort.

“All right. Anything for you.”

“Hm. Love you, Dames.”

It was quiet and you almost think that he’s not going to respond. Which is fine. You already know that he loves you. As you drift off, you don’t see him smile down at your sleeping figure. You don’t feel the kiss he leaves on your head. You don’t hear the quiet “I love you” that he says before he leaves for patrol. But he has a feeling that you know.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x female reader #mine: damian wayne

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ohnobjyx · 4 years

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Okay, I received many asks that can be answered in one post...

On Twitter, the rumor turns around when X iao z han and Y ibo are kissing, what is this?

I've try to stay away as much as possible from tt because it's so messy over there, but then today i decided to browse a bit and there's so many people talking about their break up? Do you know if there's any rumours about this that I missed or something? Or it's just people being ott lol

Hello, love ur blog! What do you think of the possibility of xiao zhan and li qin being a couple?

hey dear, wonder if you know why dd gets repeatedly caught up in dating rumors with an heiress (dont want to mention her name for obvious reasons but you probably know who it is). yh keeps denying it and the same rumor pops up again and again. i dont support or oppose whatever it is but curious why this association has occured multiple times now. thank you for being kind always and stay safe and healthy

Hi, anons! I’ve decided to answer all in the same post because my answer is the same for all of them: they are just rumors.

Sometimes the rumors are spread for the sake of spreading rumors and adding “fire” to a fandom. Sometimes, they are translations of fanfiction from Chinese fans and w/ibo (it’s often quite difficult to differentiate between a rumor the author believes in and a fanfic).

So, since rumors that turn out to be true (the latest one would be dd and his jet ski heart), baseless rumors and fanfics are mixed together, they lead to confusion and misunderstandings, and sometimes they spread to international fans.

In my opinion, we don’t need to pay a lot of attention to any of them unless they are confirmed by official channels, like events, tv shows, posts...

(More detailed answers about each ask)

1. About the kissing thing, there’s no such real photo (there are a lot of photoshopped images). If there was, their “alleged” relationship would be in the open by now. I think there was a photo of a fan meeting that people fawn over when they are introduced to the fandom.

Quite misleading, isn’t it? Of course, when you look into it, you’ll find out the truth quite quickly. This is the same moment from another angle.

So this is what comes to my mind when I hear of a “kissing” photo. But there was no such thing (but the moment dd pats on his back and says “be careful with your waist” it’s quite funny).

2. There has been rumors about their break up, but about their engagement as well. In my view, all of that it’s still baseless, there’s nothing that would point in either direction. Quite the contrary, gg’s last post in weibo is a mirror of those first posts in 2017, and dd’s posted on 0704 with the kadian 13:10 and his “surprise”. So it doesn’t look like a break up or a fall out, and an engagement is pointless in a country that doesn’t allow two men to marry.

Edit (thanks to zhansww!): it’s true that a religious/espiritual ceremony would still be possible even if they can’t marry legally. Those were my own views of marriage in there. It depends on how they view commitment and devotion to each other, for what I don’t think a ceremony is necessary, but maybe they think otherwise. However, a rumor of an engagement is still likely to be false.

And both of them requires them to be a couple, of which I’m mostly convinced (let’s say to 98%), but there’s still this last straw of possibility that they aren’t.

3 and 4. Both of them are repeatedly shipped with other people (actresses, actor, their bandmates...). It’s something that happens to all of the celebrities, so I don’t think much about them. Besides, what’s quite telling is how they act and their chemistry with all of those other people. Here, in this post, it’s explained what happened to other ships dd had. I suppose that those ships too are brought up often, but we don’t hear it from here.

GG has been shipped lately with Li Qin and Yan Zi, his co-stars for his next dramas. However, I don’t see him behaving very differently than he does with other people. He’s polite, friendly, cheerful, as he is with every other people he works with. But It’s only with dd that he banters, bickers, playfully fights and says things like “he’s noisier than me”.

Edit (thanks to zhansww again!): regarding the thing with the heiress; there is (was?) a rumor that she is gonna debut in Korea and since dd was a trainee there, he was an easy target to use as clout, to get more attention for her upcoming debut. At one point, people who believed those dating rumors hated on dd for 8 days straight so of course, YH had to make a statement, denying them.

I wholeheartedly agree with the people who say that they both are drastically different with each other in the sense that dd softens and talks (to the point of being called noisy) and gg drops his all time present politeness. Romance or friendship, it tells about closeness, familiarity and trust, and I think that’s more precious than the exact nature of their relationship.

#asks #my post #bjyx #yizhan #got the photos from google #answering as many as possible because I'm leaving for the weekend #only trust things from official channels (and what you can hear and see)

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choicesfanatic86 · 4 years

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Through The Storm: Part 3

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC

SUMMARY: Riley Lawson returned to New York a broken version of herself after a failed whirlwind romance. Years later, she has put the past behind her and rebuilt herself into a successful event planner who is happily enjoying her fast-paced New York lifestyle. However, just because she’s put the past behind her, doesn’t mean it won’t come back to haunt her. When an unexpected letter turns up on her doorstep, she’s forced to face the people and feelings she ran away from all those years ago.

Want to catch up? Please check out my Master List

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06/09/2020 - Part 3 is up! I hope you enjoy this revitalized version. As a FYI, as I post a new part of the revamped version, I will be taking down the old chapter. This is just so that people won’t get confused between the revamped version and the original version.

PART 3 - Here We Go

Please Come. The words stared back at me as I read the tiny slip of paper over and over again. He wanted me to come back. Apparently, he also wanted me to email him. I smirked. He knew of my aversion to telephone conversations. He probably figured I’d be more willing to email him than to actually pick up the phone and call him. Reading his email address, I couldn’t help but giggle softly. He was still as childish as ever. Of course he would still have the same ridiculous email address. He’s Maxwell. All the anxiety and apprehension that had been troubling me seemed to fade away. Then again, when Maxwell was involved, it always seemed to fade away.

“So, who’s getting married?” Andy asked, interrupting me from my thoughts. She tried to lean over to get a better glimpse of the invitation in my hands.

“Maxwell’s brother, Bertrand.” I smiled, scanning over the beautiful calligraphy. “Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford cordially invites you to the celebration of his marriage to Lady Savannah Walker at the Beaumont Estate on Saturday, May 5th. Formal attire required. ” I recited the perfectly proper wording off of the invitation. “I would expect no less of the Duke of Ramsford.” I snorted.

“It sounds so stuffy.” Andy crinkled her nose. “Are all of Cordonia’s people like that?”

“Well, if you met Bertrand, you’d understand,” I chuckled. “He’s all about all things prim, proper, and respectable. He’s a traditionalist through and through.”

“He sounds like a bore,” Andy said, shaking her head. “So, are all of them like that? That Maxwell guy you mentioned?” Andy pressed on.

I shook my head, thinking about Maxwell and Drake. “Not everyone.” I smirked. “The groom’s brother, Maxwell, he’s anything but boring. If anything, he keeps everyone on their toes with his crazy antics,” I laugh to myself thinking of his break-dance moves and the countless Beaumont bashes. “The bride’s brother, Drake, he’s as common as they come, and he is probably the most down to earth fellow in all of court. He really looked out for me while I was there. He was such a genuinely decent guy. Court is hard for commoners.”

I bit on my lower lip recalling all of the hardships that I had encountered at court. “Most nobles only care about titles and wealth. Drake had neither, so it made him an outsider.” I frowned a little. “Just like me.”

“Well, I’m happy you had someone who knew what you were going through while you were there. Court seems like a pretty lonely place.” Andy said decisively. She paused for a moment before continuing. “That being said, maybe you should think about going.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

Andy reasoned, “You know …time heals all wounds and all that jazz. It might be good for you to go back and get some closure.”

“I have closure,” I said in exasperation. “I just figured out how to move on with my life . . . I don’t need to go stirring things up again,” I said firmly.

“Hear me out for a second,” Andy said.

I suddenly couldn’t breathe again. I looked at Andy as I paced around the living room. I suddenly felt betrayed. I had just spilt my heart out to her . . . telling her how tough court had been . . . how broken I became . . . and after all that she still thought it was a good idea for me to go back there?

“They obviously want you to come back. You say you have closure, but what about them? Maybe they need closure, too. From the sounds of it, even though you keep saying this is all in your past, it’s still having a pretty big effect on you. I’ve never seen you like this. We’ve been roommates for over a year now, and you have been a pillar of strength. But Ri, I’m starting to see some cracks in that pillar,” she said softly.

”What are you talking about?” I questioned angrily.

“You get this invitation and suddenly all hell breaks loose. Sweetie, you’re a hot mess right now. And if you get like this over a simple wedding invitation, Lord only knows how you were when you first came back to New York.” Andy gently continued. “You are not doing okay, Ri. Something is obviously bothering you and I think you need to go back there and figure it out.”

I shook my head like a maniac. “No way,” I said as I quickened my pace walking around the living room. “Are you insane? I haven’t seen any of these people in two years. TWO YEARS. Plus, I left pretty much telling everyone not to talk to me ever again. I think my exact words were to forget I ever existed,” I cried as I started to wave my hands back and forth frantically.

“Riley,” Andy started to say.

“No. You don’t get to talk anymore. You need to listen.” I said firmly. “How am I supposed to go anyway? It’s all the way in Europe … in like three weeks! Not to mention there’s all these pre-wedding festivities listed here that request the pleasure of my attendance. It’s going to be galas and parties and rubbing elbows with all the people that tried to ruin me,” I rambled. “I just can’t jet off to Cordonia on a whim. I have a job. I have the Mitchell grand opening to worry about. Paul just got back from Boston, I doubt he’d even be able to be my plus one, and I’m certainly not going alone. I just can’t drop everything and pretend I don’t have responsibilities. I did that once before and it bit me in the ass.”

Andy sat on the couch staring up blankly at me. I couldn’t blame her. I had never flown off the handle like this before. I watched as she stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me into a hug.

“Calm down, okay? I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Obviously, this place . . . these people did a number on you, and I was wrong to push. I know this is hard, and it’s probably something you never thought you’d have to deal with, but from everything you just said, you are clearly not over everything that went down way back when. Don’t you owe it to yourself to officially close this chapter of your life?”

I blinked rapidly, processing her words. “It has been closed for two years,” I whispered angrily. “What are you a psych major now?” I muttered. I closed my eyes, kicking myself for taking my frustrations out on Andy. I know she didn’t deserve it. She had only been trying to help.

“Andy, I’m sorry. I’ve just … lost my damn mind.” I grabbed the invitation and threw it on the coffee table, staring at it as if that alone would will it away somehow. “You’re right . . . I’ve worked so hard to forget about Cordonia and the people I met there, that I never really took the time to really sort everything out. But I’m in a good place now, and I’d hate for all the progress I’ve made in moving on to get thrown out the window,” I exhaled deeply.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Andy asked. “What does your gut say?”

“To throw that thing in the trash and forget it even got delivered.” I said firmly, even though I knew that was impossible. That invitation had seared itself into my brain. There was no way I could forget about it now.

Andy snorted, clearly thinking my plan was ridiculous.

“I told you, ignorance is bliss.” My phone dinged with a text message from Paul. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Look, I gotta go. Paul just got into a cab and he’s on his way to Russo’s.” I explained. “I love you for worrying about me, but I’m fine. Okay?”

She looked at me in disbelief.

“All right, I’m not fine, but I will be,” I said with certainty.

“Go touch up your make up,” Andy relented. “You’re a blubbering mess, and I don’t want you to not look good for your date with Paul,” she said. “Although, you could meet him dressed in a paper bag and he’d probably compliment your creativity,” she added with a little bit of an eye roll.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as I headed to the bathroom. My waterproof mascara had served its purpose, and I only had a few smudges of make up here and there. I rushed to clean myself up as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to keep Paul waiting for too long, especially after he travelled home early just to see me. As I rushed out the door, I could hear Andy yelling after me.

“Don’t forget to think about what I said!”

I couldn’t help but cringe. She was never going to shut up about that damn invitation.

Once on the street, I hit the pavement running as quickly as I could. The thing about New York was that everyone got everywhere by walking, catching the subway, or taking a cab. I was fortunate enough to live in a pretty central area that allowed me to have access to some great restaurants and a plethora of stores. Russo’s was only a few short blocks away. If I hauled ass, I’d get there in ten minutes.

As I walk-ran toward the restaurant, I couldn’t help but let Andy’s words eat away at me a bit. I should have been ecstatic about seeing Paul, but now, I had the burden of Andy’s words and the stupid invitation weighing heavily on my mind. Was Andy right? Should I make an effort to go? But then, what if he was there? Who was I kidding, of course he’d be there. It was impossible for him to not attend Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. Could I handle seeing him face to face after all this time? Could I even pretend that what we had between each other meant nothing? I tried to push the thoughts aside as Russo’s came into view. I wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. I had made my decision – I wasn’t going to go. I had Paul to think about. And my job. I couldn’t just drop everything to go jet setting to the Mediterranean. New York was my life now., and Cordonia was just a really bad memory. The invitation was getting trashed as soon as I got home.

I entered the restaurant as I attempted to quickly smooth the wayward strands of hair sticking up from my fast-paced walk. I spotted Paul sitting in our booth. We had come to Russo’s on our first date, and instantly fell in love with everything about the little corner restaurant. Back then, the waiter was kind enough to seat us at the booth in the quietest area with the best view. In the dozens of times we had come back here since, Paul would request the same table each time. We liked to joke that we had exclusive rights to the table since we had probably sat there more than anyone else. I know it was silly, but Paul loved the sentimentality of it all, and I’ll admit, it held some pretty fond memories for me as well. It was where Paul had first started to piece the shattered parts of my heart back together.

My eyes met Paul as I approached closer to the booth. Paul, as always, was meticulously dressed. He was wearing a perfectly, tailored navy suit. His tie was a matching He had impeccable style. As he got up to greet me, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back. As if my heart could swoon any more. I smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss him softly on the cheek. I didn’t deserve him. He wrapped me in a warm embrace and I melted into him, letting the tension of the afternoon fade away.

“I’ve missed you.” He murmured in my ear. “Wildflowers for my wildflower,” he said as he handed me the gorgeous bouquet.

“You sir, are too much. You just get back from your business trip, and you’re bringing me flowers?” I shook my head smiling. “I’ve missed you too. I’m so sorry I’m late,” I apologized as I squeezed myself into the booth. “Andy and I got into a bit of a fight before I came here, and it just kind of set things back a bit,” I exhaled heavily.

“That doesn’t sound too promising. What happened?” He asked in concern.

I shrugged. “It’s not important. I mean, things aren’t exactly resolved, but they will be when I get home,” I waved him off. “We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to spend time with you and eat some amazing Italian food.” I looked for the menu, but found that it wasn’t on the table. My eyes shot to Paul, “Did you order already?”

He nodded. “I just got you your usual. Although, I probably didn’t even have to order. Reggie knows our order by heart already.”

“True.” I smiled warmly at him. See? Perfect. He knew absolutely everything about me. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He grabbed my hands from across the table. “Oh, nothing special. You were just your endearing self.”

And just like that, all was right in the world again. I looked down at our joined hands and realized how happy I truly was. Why would I give all of this up for more heartbreak?

“So, how was Boston?” I asked, as I pulled a slice of bread from the basket.

“Terrible.” He growled. “I wish I never had see that city again. Well … not so much the city, just most of the people ithere. Plus, there have been so many headaches with the McCullough merger. It’s a nightmare. Truly. No one wants to budge. Looks like we’re going to have to meet a few more times before we come to even some semblance of a deal.”

“That’s too bad. Hopefully the merger resolves quickly so that you don’t have to take too many flights back to deal with things.” I could see the dark circles under his eyes and felt terrible. All of the traveling back and forth was taking a toll on him, and even though he would never admit it, I’m sure it would probably be easier to just stay in Boston until everything was resolved, but he flew back and forth so that he could spend time with me.

“One can only hope.” He agreed. “I’m probably going to fly out there at the end of the month again. He rubbed circles around my hand as he held it. “But anyway, enough about McCullough. I’ve got my best girl in front of me, and that’s all that matters now.” He looked at me longingly. “So ah … while we wait for our meals, I was hoping we could talk about something. If you recall during our earlier conversation, there’s been something on my mind and I just can’t wait to talk about it.”

I sat up a bit straighter in the booth. “Of course. What was it that you wanted to discuss? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course.” He smiled brightly. “Everything’s perfect. It’s just while I was in Boston I did some thinking. I missed you every day. The texts and Facetime sessions were great, but it wasn’t the same as having you by my side.” He reached up to stroke my cheek, and I felt myself instantly flush over his gentle caresses. “And every night I went to bed, I wished for you to be right there next to me, and then it had me thinking that maybe it’s time to take the next step.”

“The next step?” I looked at him a bit confused. “What next step?” I asked.

“Of our relationship.” Paul broadly smiled.

I licked my lips nervously. Next step? As in marriage? My eyes widened a bit, and I could feel my leg bouncing nervously under the table. Well, this escalated quickly. Marriage wasn’t even something I thought was on the table. At least not right now.

“Oh?” I asked, my voice a bit hoarse from being caught off guard with his suggestion. “But don’t you like where things are at right now? I mean, we’re pretty happy, right?”

“Well, of course.” Paul exclaimed. "Things are going well. Really well. I love you, Riley, and I know you aren’t ready to say it yet, and you don’t need to … but we’ve been together for eight months now, and I know that you’re it for me.”

I felt my mouth dry out. Oh crap, he IS talking about marriage. Oh my God. I felt the heat from my anxiety rising up my neck. I quickly let go of Paul’s hands and reached for my glass of water. I took a large gulp. “But we’ve only been together for eight months … how could you possibly know …” I trailed off, my face becoming hotter and hotter by the second. There was no way I was ready for marriage. Holy crap, I was so in like with Paul. A lot. I could even love him. Someday. Down the line. When my heart wasn’t damaged. He was funny and sweet and sensitive . . . but marriage?

“I’m not proposing or anything, Riley. I just think that we should start seriously thinking about moving in together.”

“Whew,” I exhaled a loud breath that I hadn’t realized I had been holding in. As much as I cared about Paul, and enjoyed our time together . . . I hadn’t given any thought to a long-term future with him. I loved spending time with him, and I loved our long conversations . . . but I didn’t know if I was IN love with him. At least not yet. And moving in with him? God, that’s like a major step toward lifelong commitment. Isn’t that the sort of thing you did after being together for a couple years? “Moving in together?” With everything that I had been dealt today, this was just the cherry on the sundae.

“Well, yeah. I’m not getting any younger Riley. I’m 39. I know I work a lot, and I’m on business trips more than I am at home, but I want a life with you.” He reached for my hands again, gently rubbing my fingers. I could feel my hands relax against his. “I think moving in together will give us a whole new perspective on our relationship – it’ll bring us closer together.”

I sighed deeply. “That’s a big step. A very big step.” I had missed him terribly while he was in Boston. I missed snuggling with him, and talking to him . . . but moving in together meant being with one another all the time. What if it ruined what we had?

“It is, but I think it’s the right one.” I could tell that Paul sensed my hesitation, so I tried smile a bit, but it probably came out as more of a grimace.

Paul frowned at me. “Is it because you haven’t said you love me yet? Is that why you’re holding back? Because I don’t care about that. I told you that I’m not in a rush for you to say it. I don’t know what happened before. I know you don’t like to talk about your past relationships, but I want you to know that I’m not like those other guys. I will wait for as long as it takes. I’m not going to give up on you. I’m not going to give up on us.”

My heart flip flopped once more, and I could feel my eyes water as he spoke. I will wait for as long as it takes. After everything that happened today, I found myself thinking about him once again. He had said those very same words to me two years ago, except, he didn’t really mean it. I was almost certain that Paul did.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Paul reached in his jacket pocket and handed me his handkerchief. “No tears. This is supposed to be something exciting.” He smiled. “I thought you’d be excited about it, too.”

I reached for his handkerchief gratefully and dabbed at my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I’m just overwhelmed,” I said between sniffles. “I’m not freaking out about the whole moving in together thing,” I paused. “Well, maybe I am just a little. I just . . . I’ve had a rough day,” I sighed.

He stood up and scooted into the same side of the booth with me. “The fight with Andy?” He asked in concern. “When I spoke with you this morning, you were having a great day off,” he added. “Everything okay at work?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled deeply. “It’s not work,” I paused once more. “The thing with Andy . . . it was a fight over a letter I got today in the mail from an old friend. I’ve been invited to a wedding.”

“And that’s what you’re freaking out about?” He said slowly, puzzled as to how that would make me so upset.

“In a way, yes.” I nodded. “Remember when we first started dating, I told you that I was still getting over something … well someone.” He nodded. “It was some sort of fling you had before moving back to New York right?”

I contemplated his choice of word. Fling. It was so much more than just a fling for me. It meant everything to me, but maybe that’s exactly how he saw it. A fling with an American who got swept up in the grand romantic notion of love. A fling. The word still stung though.

“Something like that,” I sighed, suddenly feeling very uneasy. “There’s a lot more to the story than I actually told you.” I cringed at the thought of having to relive everything that I had just told Andy just an hour ago. I cleared my throat and started to recollect everything – the moment I met him, the journey to Cordonia, falling in love with him, the heartbreak . . . all of it was finally laid out on the table for him to see – the good, the bad – the heartbreaking. All the secrets I harbored from him for the last eight months came spilling out. As I spoke, his eyes never left mine. I didn’t cry this time. Perhaps I was all cried out . . . or maybe just numb. He didn’t speak or interrupt or even ask questions. He just held my hand and squeezed when it seemed like I couldn’t get the right words out. I tried my best to keep a brave face so that he knew that I was fine. I wondered if he could see through the façade.

After I was finished, there was an uncomfortable silence that lingered between the two of us. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset or confused. He was just staring at his hands, seemingly processing everything I had just told him, until a soft chuckle escaped from his lips.

“Well, suddenly I feel very inadequate.” Paul deadpanned quietly.

“Huh?” I said in confusion.

“I mean, when your girlfriend tells you that she used to date a Prince … wait I’m sorry … a King … and almost married him, it kind of puts corporate lawyer on the lower end of the spectrum in the dating pool,” he snorted.

I looked at him, mouth agape. That wasn’t the reaction that I had anticipated. I had expected yelling, or worse, him breaking up with me. “What?” I asked again, still not comprehending how he could be so calm and relaxed about all of this.

“I mean it’s kind of hard to show up with flowers when you used to be with a guy that could have given you a whole kingdom.” He smirked a little. He was clearly joking, trying to make me feel better about everything.

I shook my head, lightly slapping him on the arm. “Not funny,” I murmured, even though I was having a hard time stifling my own laughter now.

“It was two years ago, and honestly, from what I can see, there’s no competition.” I said honestly. “It didn’t work out between me and him, and now that there’s been a lot of distance, I realize now that it probably never would have worked out between us. I always felt like I wasn’t enough for him.”

I looked down at the table remembering the engagement tour, how he proudly walked around with Madeline on his arm. I remembered the public interviews and newspaper articles about what a loving couple they were . . . while in the background, he was sneaking off to meet me on secret late night rendezvous. Just as Cordonia was my dirty little secret . . . I was his. It all felt so contrived. He wanted the best of both worlds. He kept promising me that things would work out . . . the truth would eventually come out. He kept asking me to be patient. For our sake. He kept telling me to be patient, to give it time. Then, suddenly time ran out.

Paul’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Hey . . . if he didn’t think you were enough for him, that’s his problem. Not yours. He’s the one that gave up the most amazing woman I have ever met. His loss, is most certainly my gain,” he assured me. I blushed and murmured a quiet thank you.

“So . . . you mentioned something about a wedding?” Paul said, quickly changing the subject.

“Yup.” I nodded. “Maxwell left me an email address to contact him at. I’m assuming to give him my RSVP. Andy thinks I should go.”

Paul was quiet for a second, mulling over my words. “Do you want to go?”

“No . . . for obvious reasons. I don’t really want to dredge everything back up,” I shrugged. “I know . . . I know maybe it will bring me closure,” I rolled my eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he shook his head. “It might be nice of you to visit with the people you’re still friendly with,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure if it’s worth you getting hurt in the process,” he said honestly.

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was trying to explain to Andy,” I explained.

“Andy really wants you to go huh?” He reasoned. “That’s what’s making this harder on you.”

“Well, yeah.” I nodded. “You know how Andy is, she wiggled her way into my conscience and had me second guessing everything.” I sighed. “I just don’t want to see him.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do.” Paul said simply.

I shook my head. “I made up my mind, I’m not gonna go. Anyway, it’s in like three weeks . . . and I’d have to be there for like two weeks,” I scoffed. “Totally not possible with the Mitchell event coming up,” I said.

“When is the wedding?” Paul asked.

“May 5th,” I replied.

“Well, I’d like to say that if you changed your mind I’d go with you, but I’m heading back to Boston at the end of this month, and I’d probably be stuck there well into the middle of May,” he said as he looked at his schedule on his phone.

“See? One more reason for me not to go,” I affirmed.

“You know I would go with you in a heartbeat, baby,” he said.

I nodded. “I know you would,” I said honestly. “God, why are we even still talking about this? I’m not going to go. It’s crazy that I even considered it. Why should I drop everything for a few weeks to go to a wedding for someone I haven’t even talked to in two years,” I said shaking my head. “I should listen to my gut. Maybe I’ll just send them like a nice punchbowl set or something . . .” I shrugged.

He nodded. “I support you in whatever decision you make, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” I smiled earnestly. “I appreciate how much you care about me and want the best for me. I’m so lucky.”

“We’re both lucky,” he said. “Maybe I’m lucky enough that you’ll say you’ll move in with me?” He pressed. “Will you at least think about it? I know there’s a lot going on right now, but just think about it.”

I forced a smile. "Of course, I’ll think about it,” I squeezed his hands in encouragement. “I just have so much on my plate right now, and like you said, you’re going to be going back to Boston at the end of the month,” I reasoned.

“I was actually hoping to have you moved in before I left,” he said sheepishly.

“Wow . . . um . . . that’s really fast,” I said quickly. “I just . . . wow,” I said again. “There’s so many factors to consider . . . I mean, you want me to move into your apartment? I mean, babe, it’s amazing. The view is spectacular and there’s so much space. I can pretty much fit my whole apartment in your bedroom . . . but it’s also so far away from my office. The commute is going to kill me. Plus what about Andy?” I asked. “I can’t leave her high and dry without a roommate. How will she afford the rent? I’d be such a crappy friend if I just up and left her to fend for herself,” I exclaimed. I saw Paul’s face drop and zipped my lips. I was rambling. I squeezed his hands tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly right now,” I shot him a half-smile. “I promise that I will give it some serious thought,” I assured him.

He tried his best to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, that’s fair.” He smiled again, this time, it was a bit brighter. “Looks like the food’s coming.”

I took a deep breath, thankful for the distraction. At least the moving in conversation was put on hold for right now.

The rest of the dinner flew by without further mention of either of the bombshells of the night. We fell into a comfortable conversation about a few of the upcoming parties I was planning, as we finished our dinners. As we settled the bill, Paul led me out into the street, swept me into his arms, and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. I couldn’t help but smile as butterflies floated freely in my stomach.

“Raincheck on movie night?” he asked, looking back at me with tired eyes. “I didn’t get much sleep last night with with the excitement of coming back early,” he explained.

“Oh my gosh, don’t be silly. We can definitely do movie night next week,” I assured him. “You go home and get some rest. I’m sure all that travel is catching up with you.”

He placed a soft kiss on my head and squeezed me tightly. “Want to split a cab home though?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s such a beautiful evening, I think I’ll walk,” I motioned around me.

“Alright, beautiful.” He pulled me closer to him, tipping my chin up as he kissed me gently.

“Goodnight,” I murmured against his lips, falling into his embrace one more.

He softly ran his fingers through my hair. “Until next time, sweetheart,” he replied as he walked down the street to hail a cab home.

I spent the rest of the walk back to my apartment mulling over Paul’s words. Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do. I started to have second thoughts about my decision. I mean, no one would really miss me if I didn’t go right? Then again, Maxwell went through all the trouble of tracking me down . . . shouldn’t I put all my fears and worries aside and do this for Bertrand? It’s only a couple of weeks. I could survive that surely? Maxwell and Bertrand were like the brothers I never had . . . and never really wanted, but that was beside the point. When they took me in, I suddenly had a family again. And for a while, it felt wonderful to belong somewhere. Should I go as a thank you? I mean, I was there when he reconnected with Savannah . . . I had helped him through the shock of finding her again and learning about Bartie. I’d watched as Bertrand came back to life. It’d be amazing to see them finally get their happily ever after.

And what of Maxwell? Sweet Maxwell who was hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to reach out to me and bring me back to them. That hope never faded after all. He apparently couldn’t … or wouldn’t move on. The invitation and email address made that clear. It would be wonderful to see Maxwell again. I actually kind of, sort of missed him. I feel bad about how things ended and how I treated him when I came back to New York. He didn’t deserve that.

But what if I went to Cordonia . . . would I be forced to see him? Them together? I don’t think I could stomach seeing Madeline’s conniving face. What if they had a family now? Could I pretend to be okay when the man who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with had moved on?

What if I lost myself again? What if I got caught up in the whirlwind of court? I can’t go through another round of rumors and whispers from the other nobles. Was my scandal ever resolved? Did they ever get the truth out of Tariq? Or was I still the court slut who slept around to get ahead?

I’m doing it again. I’m spiraling and I need to stop. These unsavory thoughts were going to do me in. This just proves that I can’t go back there. I’ll end up breaking down. Maybe this time it will be worse.

When I got back to my apartment, I saw that the living room lights had been turned off, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was not ready to go for round two with Andy tonight. It looked like Andy had called it quits for tonight and went to go hibernate in her bedroom. I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, and glanced at the coffee table. The invitation mocked me from where I had thrown it earlier. I ambled over to the table, picked up the invitation and tossed it into the kitchen trash. That was that. It was done. Now all I needed to do was email Maxwell with my regrets and ask where I can send a gift so that I could put this whole nightmare behind me.

I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured myself a generous amount in my favorite glass. I plopped back onto the couch, pulled out my laptop and got to work. How hard could this be? Exchange a few niceties, thank him for thinking of me, and tell him I can’t make it. Easy peasy.

As I logged into my email account and clicked on the new message button, I found myself stuck. How do you start an email to someone you haven’t spoken to in two years? I took a sip of my wine pondering how I would start and what I would say, then began typing quickly.

Dear Maxwell, Hi, it’s been a while. Got the invite. I can’t make it. Would love to send a gift though.

I frowned. That was terrible. It sounded like I didn’t even care. I sighed, gulping down some of my wine and crossing my legs on the couch. I tried to type again.

Dear Maxwell, I’m so sorry that I haven’t kept in touch. Things were hard when I came back to New York, so I thought a clean break would have been better.

Oh my gosh, that’s totally off point. I paused, thinking again, pouring a bit more wine into my almost empty glass.

Dear Maxwell, How long has it been? Two years? Wow time sure flies.

Nope. Now I’m not even addressing the elephant in the room. I sighed, a bit stumped about what to say. I stared at the laptop’s screen, at a loss for words. This hadn’t seemed so hard in my head. I sighed again, and tried to type something else.

Dear Maxwell,

I got your invitation to Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. First of all, I’m so happy for them. Happy for all of you. But I can’t come back. I’m so flattered that you thought to invite me after all this time, but my heart

I stopped typing, hit the delete button, and started again, drinking just a bit more wine than before.

Dear Maxwell,

I received a beautiful invitation in the mail announcing Bertrand and Savannah’s upcoming marriage. It will be a beautiful day . . . that I won’t be attending.

I crinkled my nose. That’s a bit too harsh. I stabbed the delete button once more, took another gulp of my wine and started again.

Dear Maxwell, House Beaumont must be knee deep in wedding planning, and I can only imagine how busy things must be for all of you. Thank you for thinking of me and wanting me to be a part of such a special occasion. I’ll admit that I was more than a little surprised when I saw the invitation. I am so happy that you thought to include me in their special day, but for reasons of which I’m sure you’re aware, I am unable to attend.

I read and reread the paragraph, and deleted it once again. God, why am I spazzing out about this? Why can’t I just say no, with regrets and be done with it?

As I went to pour myself another glass of wine, I realized that the bottle was now completely empty. In the course of the last hour, I had drained an entire bottle of wine by myself. I bit my lip. This wasn’t a job for wine anyway. I needed something harder. I stood up and headed over to the liquor cabinet, sifting through the various bottles until my hand landed on an unopened bottle of whiskey. I pulled the bottle down, grabbed a glass, and poured the amber liquid in generously. Whiskey certainly wouldn’t solve any of my problems, but I would happily indulge in something that might numb me for a while. As I sipped from the glass, I could already feel the smooth liquor working to calm my nerves. With the liquid courage entering my system, I started to type once more.

Dear Maxwell, Hey, it’s Riley. I know it’s been a while, but I am reaching out to you because I received your invitation to Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. Let me first start off by saying that I am so happy for them! They truly deserve a happily ever after, and am so happy to hear that they are joining their lives together. That being said, I am unfortunately unable to attend. I run my own business now, and can’t really be away for an extended period of time. I hope you understand. Please let me know if they are registered anywhere as I would happy to send along a gift in celebration of their nuptials. Please send my regards to all of them, and I hope you are doing well. Sincerely, Riley

My eyes started to get heavy, probably from all the alcohol I had consumed. I pushed my laptop to the side, intending to send the message tomorrow morning after I had a chance to read through it once more. As I felt sleep begin to take me, I snuggled up closer into the couch as my eyes fell heavily closed.

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woollymitts · 4 years

Text

17th March 2020. Day 1 of Pestilence Diary

6:40

At Jen’s instigation, instead of wasting all my time staying up too late getting goggle-eyed watching the news and reading social media for coronavirus info, think it best to keep a plague diary since we are currently living through extraordinary times. This is also sent to Jen just to make her laugh and as we are probably about a fortnight to a month ahead of the US in terms of the disease progress and our response to it, so she knows what to expect.

Highlights from today. At Faye’s suggestion setting up a village whatsapp group in case of self-isolation and lockdown. Yesterday’s advice from govt has meant it is all got much more serious. As of tonight they are insisting that anyone who arrives on the Isle of Man is required to self-isolate for a fortnight, and advising over 70s to start social distancing, discouraged all but essential travel, and cancelled the TT. In effect, no one is getting on or off for the foreseeable we are in contain mode and trying to supress the speed of the virus’ spread. Statistically we have only had 42 tests and 0 positive results but clearly not enough testing to be in anyway sure the virus isn’t already here, so they are working on the assumption that it is present. With the fourth oldest population in the world and about 10 ICU beds, the situation is worrisome.

Cancelled loads of planned events over the following months, so no dinner this weekend with friends, no Poulenc in Glasgow, no Easter in Edinburgh, no Anne Lister Birthday Weekend conference/celebration, no Charlotte et al coming over to do all the soft planting in April, no Manx folk festival, no school concert, no Mothering Sunday service and Sunday lunch at ours with Faye’s parents and 94 year old Grandma. My engagement calendar is going up in flames.

As a consequence got hold of most of the village via Facebook and the rest by card. All agree this is a sensible way forward and everyone happy to pitch in. We have some vulnerable older couples we shall keep an eye out for and one chap on his own, Nick, who has just lost his Dad. Got a bit delayed as I was chatting to Nick and he wanted to show me all the changes he had made to the Barn. It is looking very lovely filled with his family’s old oak furniture that is clearly very dear to him.

Went up to the field to inspect it. While some wildflowers are coming through, the grass is likely to dominate so I’m going to give it a trim tomorrow to weaken the grass and give the flowers a fighting chance. I better get out there before I get confined to the garden only.

Then went to the school to teach. Laura was at the ABRSM music exams (the last before the rest got cancelled) so I got to play games with the twins. We did my favourite, stock photo violinist, where I explain to the kids that sometimes on the internet if you google violinist you get stock photos by models and photographers who are clearly clueless about how the instrument is held or played. They love correcting all the terrible poses I put on. The second group were told that the Manx Folk Festival for which they had been practising so hard has been cancelled. So I suggested instead they do a concert for the school and practise introducing their pieces and performing. After agreeing a programme they made some great suggestions, like counting themselves in in Manx and bringing out some drums to help accompany on the dancier tunes.

Drove Mrs Tea to the supermarket. Pleased to see fruit and veg restocked, but pretty depressed at the empty loo roll shelves; seriously, again? I had wondered what had happened to all the Armageddonists during these trying times, as I assumed they would be having a field day. But maybe it is too difficult to work scatological loo roll-hoarding into an eschatological narrative. Maybe though, portents of doom, such as “The Great Crapture is coming” or “Blessed are the constipated, they shall inherit the earth.”

After piano lesson, dragged kids off to Maccy D’s to give them a drive thru tea, as crap mother and they won’t eat my shepherd’s pie for a second night in a row.

#personal #coronavirus journal

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waveridden · 4 years

Text

FIC: warm and far away

Open your eyes, AGENT DUSK. (A Twilight Mirage/Within the Wires fusion. Demani/Gray + Morning’s, 1.7k; content warning for some discussion of nonconsensual memory alteration)

AUcember || read on ao3

REPORT: THE DUSK INCIDENT - 6272696E6B

DISPATCH: To Agent 157-QL-F6

Agent Dusk,

Due to recent events, the Rapid Evening has initiated a new protocol for primary agents. Between assignments, agents will undergo simulations in order to assure that no attachments have been formed between satellite and primary agents. You previously consented to undergo these simulations. After you have completed the simulations that were selected for you, which will double as an evaluation, you will be reassigned.

These simulations are voluntary, and you may withdraw your consent at any point. However, they are also mandatory in order to ensure that you are qualified for future primary assignments. Keep this in mind.

TRAINING SIMULATION: 4457203 - DELTA - RQ

Simulation description:

Open your eyes, AGENT DUSK.

As you can see, this simulation has placed you into a public area that you do not know. This area is not on Kesh, nor is it any area that you have surveilled on any of your previous assignments. If you recognize it from a previous assignment, you must say so now.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Uhhh, nope, looks all clear to me. What am I supposed to be looking for here?]

This simulation has not yet entered the interactive phase. Please wait for the simulation guidelines to complete.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Yeah, yeah, whatever. You said I’ve done this before?]

All primary agents must complete these simulations.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: If you say so.]

Confirmed: no recognition. Thank you, AGENT DUSK. As you examine your sur

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Wait, have I been here before? (OUTPUT: no response permitted. Simulation continues.)]

roundings, take note of the civilian population. Take note of the architecture. While Crystal Palace will undoubtedly know where you are, the Rapid Evening may not know where to look for you. You must be able to guide them to you.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: O… kay, this seems weird. This definitely seems weird. (OUTPUT: no response required. Agent complaints noted. Simulation continues.)]

Take a breath. Notice how it feels in your lungs. You must learn to understand atmospheres. No two atmospheres are the same, not even on the same planet.

Breathe in again. Are you cold? You should not be cold. Or perhaps you should. What would you guess, based on the simulation? You must learn to guess.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: If Crystal Palace knows everything, why do I need to know how to guess what’s in an atmosphere?]

You are far too skilled to ask such questions, AGENT DUSK.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Ha! If you say so.]

The Rapid Evening would not work with you if you were not skilled.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Yeah, whatever. I’m looking around, I’m assessing, I’m… holy shit, Gray? (ALERT. RECOGNITION. ALERT.)]

AGENT DUSK, there is nobody here by the name of Gray.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: It… (subject inhales) nobody?]

Nobody.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Fuck. Okay. I don’t… know what that was. Sorry, sim. (ALERT: Downgraded by one level. Subject recognition is not sustained. Simulation has maintained integrity.)]

Are you able to continue, AGENT DUSK?

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: (subject exhales) Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.]

Simulation assessment: The initial recognition could potentially be problematic. Agent Dusk is too powerful an asset to lose to something as simple as sentiment. See what you can do.

TRAINING SIMULATION: 9950524 - UPSILON - TT

Simulation description:

Open your eyes, AGENT DUSK.

You are in a standard primary agent observation cell. You have received technical training on all of the equipment that is available to you. Do you understand how to work this equipment?

[VISUAL NOTE: Agent Dusk appears to reach automatically for the audio recorder. This is, again, a potential issue, given her history; agent’s action has been noted.]

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I don’t think you would give me this job if I didn’t understand how this stuff worked. Are you sure that I have to go through this every time?]

This is standard for all primary agents, AGENT DUSK.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Are you sure it is? I don’t remember going through this any previous times.]

These simulations are not designed to be remembered.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: What’s that supposed to mean? (OUTPUT: no response permitted. Simulation continues.)]

Over the next six hours, you will be in touch with a simulated satellite agent. This simulation is designed to examine your interactions with your satellite agent.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: What’s the point of doing this if I don’t remember?]

You do not consciously remember, AGENT DUSK. That is not the same thing as not remembering at all. You are receiving a transmission from your satellite agent.

[VISUAL NOTE: Agent Dusk reaches for an old-style ink-and-paper printer, which is printing out a binary message. Scanning binary message: 01000010 01010010 01001001 01001110 01001011 ALERT. ALERT. SIMULATION HAS BEEN BREACHED. SIMULATION HAS B

Simulation notes: Some work to do on this one. Obviously.

TRAINING SIMULATION: 0191201 - SIGMA - JM

Simulation description:

Open your eyes, AGENT DUSK.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Uh… what am I supposed to be looking at here?]

This is what you need to remember.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I thought I wasn’t supposed to remember these.]

I don’t think I did this right.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: ...sim?]

Listen, I’m going to give it another shot with the next one. But for now, this is what you need to remember.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Gray? Is that… is that you?]

No, but she’s going to be so fucking relieved that you remember her. Look at the blueprints, Demani.

[ALERT. SIMULATION HAS BEEN BREACHED. SIMULATION H

Yeah, yeah, you fucking piece of mesh bullshit, I get it.

AS BEEN BREACHED. TAKING DEFENSIVE ACTIONS.]

Are you reading th-

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Yeah, god, I’m reading the blueprints, can you quiet down for a minute and let me read?]

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: ...you still here?]

You asked for quiet.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I guess I did.]

I don’t know how much longer you have, so just… read the blueprints, okay? I’ll be back in the next sim. Or the one after.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Am I going to remember this?]

If you don’t, we’ll get it back for you. That’s a promise.

I don’t think the blueprints are going to last.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I’ve got enough.]

Okay. Stay safe in here.

Simulation notes: Increase defenses. Prepare for stratus attack. They will try again. Agent Dusk is an asset. Why is this so fucking difficult to understand?

TRAINING SIMULATION: 6302841 - KAPPA - ERROR. ERROR. SIMULATION HAS BEEN ALTERED.

Simulation description:

Demani?

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Morning’s?]

Holy shit. I did it. Oh my god, Demani, we thought they fucking brain-zapped you or something, we thought that you had amnesia or some shit.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I don’t think they could zap me that hard. It’s all still a little fuzzy, but this… this is the Brink, isn’t it?]

Yeah, it is. You remember it?

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: It’s like remembering a dream.]

No dream. Or, well, a metaphorical dream, but not a literal one, because it’s a very, very real place. You scared the shit out of us, you know that? Gray kept saying that she thought they’d try and take her, something about synthetic beings being easier to overwrite like this.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Let’s not underestimate the sheer power of scientific bullshit that Crystal Palace can get up to.]

Yeah, I guess. But in the meantime, just… sit down for a while, okay? Gray’s on her way, you have the blueprints - uh, you still remember the blueprints, right? How to get from here to the hangar?

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I remember enough. Is there a reason I can’t see you?]

It’s because doing this is giving me the most killer migraine I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some pretty killer migraines.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Shit, then why-]

Because if I stop, then I don’t know if the simulation is going to be able to actually impact you again. And I can, like, take a nap or something on the way home. I think I’d rather take a nap on the way home than let this go too early.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Fine, but if you’re with Gray you’d better make sure she’s keeping an eye on you.]

Oh, she didn’t even want me doing this much. Thought the blueprints would be enough. But I forgot to give you a timeframe, and that’s kind of just embarrassing, so I made up an excuse - don’t tell her any of this, she’s going to give me so much shit for going in again. But mostly I just wanted to… to actually talk to you correctly.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: (subject exhales) I’m okay, Mor.]

Are you? Like, are you actually?

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: I think so.]

Okay, well. Hang tight. I’m going to try and maintain this for as long as I can. As soon as it drops, you gotta be ready to go, okay?

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Don’t hurt yourself, alright? I can get out just fine.]

It’s total bullshit that you’re taking care of me right now. You’re the one who got kidnapped. Just… rest up. Don’t worry about me, I’m going to pass out as soon as this is dropped, anyways.

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: What do you mean, don’t worry, you’re just going to pass out for fun?]

It’s not gonna be fun-

[AUDIO INPUT - DEMANI DUSK: Jesus fucking Christ.]

Yeah, I know. I know.

We’ll get you home soon.

Simulation notes: you rapid evening bullshit motherfuckers can get fucked

SECURITY ALERT: Breach in south hangar. Dispatch troops.

SECURITY ALERT: Breach in simulation testing room 372, currently housing AGENT DUSK. Dispatch troops.

SECURITY ALERT: neener neener, you motherfuckers

SECURITY ALERT: Stratus breach in security system. Internal security measures will be taken.

SECURITY ALERT: All cameras in southern hangar have been disabled. All audio sensors in southern hangar have been disabled. All door locks in southern hanger have been disabled.

INCOMING AUDIO TRANSMISSION - SOUTHERN HANGAR:

You touch any of us again and you’re not gonna be so lucky next time. Got it?

SECURITY ALERT: All cameras in southern hangar are back online. Everything seems undisturbed. All audio sensors in southern hangar are back online. Everything is quiet. All door locks in southern hangar have been enabled. There is no sign of Agent Dusk, or of the former Agent Gloaming.

END REPORT 6272696E6B

#twilight mirage #demani x gray #friends at the table #tm fic #fatt fic #demani dusk #gray gloaming #morning's observation #waveridden.fic #aucember19 #WE'RE IN IT NOW LADS #with the weirdest fucking thing i've done in a LONG time. welcome to hell #for the full experience please read on ao3 i went hog fucking wild with blockquotes

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sassycassie-s-series · 6 years

Text

All My Fault 13

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) This one is also a tad long, but I’m putting up the gala all pretty quickly so you don’t have to wait for forever to get through the whole event since it lasts for like 3 chapters!

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes @nanna-the-batmum @probsjosh @welovegroot

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12

^^^^^

“Oh, you poor darling!” an older woman exclaimed, clutching at her pearls with one hand and my upper arm with the other. “Trapped within time itself for eight years with no escape? That must have been dreadful.”

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about being trapped in the time-stream because it required lies. So I just said thank you. A lot.

My arm was still in Damian’s. People could pull me around to talk all they wanted and he stubbornly hung at my side, exchanging pleasantries politely and acting like a proper gentleman. Most people didn’t even notice that many of his comments contained snide jabs that were so subtle only I would catch them because I knew him.

I couldn’t get over how good he looked in his tux. It was tailored perfectly to suit his physique and he just looked suave. His hair was carefully, lightly gelled out of his way with his thick bangs swept upward. It helped keep attention on his eyes—which were so green I could almost see treetops in them. Damian had grown up into quite the handsome young man—and I really couldn’t help but try and memorize every detail.

He and Jason filled out tuxedoes the same way—like one too-intense flex of their arm muscles would shred the whole thing.

“Miss McCloud?” a familiar voice asked. I turned.

“Diana!” I greeted. I let go of Damian long enough to hug the Amazon around the shoulders. “Lovely to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you as well. Relieved to see you home all in one piece,” she replied. She nodded to Damian. “Young Mr. Wayne. How are you this evening?”

“Adequate, Ms. Prince,” he answered curtly. “Adequate.”

“Well, you should be better than adequate with a woman like this on your arm,” Diana said, smiling at me. Damian blinked, appearing to be at a loss for words.

“You are correct,” he finally said. “I hope you enjoy the evening.”

“I believe I will, Damian. Enjoy it yourself,” Diana said.

“We will,” I put it, smiling.

The music started playing. I turned my smile to Damian. He glanced at Diana. “Excuse us, Ms. Prince,” he said. “I promised her a dance.”

Diana beamed at us—a glint in her eye that I thought I recognized as mischief. “Of course, young ones. Enjoy.”

Damian nodded to her while I waved and he led me to the dancefloor.

“Tt. People can be so suffocating,” he muttered, sliding his hand around to my back and cupping my shoulder blade.

“Diana’s not so bad,” I said.

“No. Not her. Prince is a good woman. I mean everyone else,” Damian amended.

“Careful. We’re in a room full of gossips. Don’t let them hear you say that,” I teased.

Damian leaned down and brushed his lips against my ear. “They won’t,” he whispered. It tickled. I shuddered and snickered.

“Okay good,” I said as he began to dance with me.

We could have gone full-formal waltz to this song—spinning around the room, elbows high, heads turned away from each other, trying to talk and dance well at the same time, and failing at the former in favor of the latter.

But we didn’t. We waltzed in a much more casual way. Elbows more relaxed, the twist on the basic step small and the travelling little, looking into each other’s eyes, talking more than dancing.

“You look a vision tonight, McCloud,” Damian said.

“Thank you,” I said, not even bothering to fight the blush crawling over my face. “You look really nice too.”

He nodded graciously as we continued to dance.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at dancing,” I offered.

That actually earned me a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Grayson helped me.”

I grinned. “Of course he did.”

We lapsed into silence so he could spin me under his arm. I felt the skirt of my dress brush against his legs as it flared out. When he gently pulled me back into the dance hold, he gave me that intense stare of his that seemed to peer straight into my soul. If it was possible, his eyes were even greener tonight than I’d ever seen them.

As we continued to dance, I paid attention to his leading style. When he was thirteen—at the last gala I attended only a few months ago for me—I mostly led him since he didn’t like dancing and always did so with a lot of tutting.

Now he was strong and fluid. Light and smooth on his feet.

“You know, I think you’ve become a better dancer than Dick,” I remarked.

Damian snorted. “Don’t let him hear you say that,” he replied sarcastically. I laughed softly.

His grip on me was firm enough to lead but light enough to allow me to move. I pushed back against his hand on my shoulder blade as I was supposed to do, even though it had always been hard for me to push back since my natural instinct was to relax against that pressure so it would be easier to be led. Even though it actually was meant to be easier with me applying pressure back to him.

Another silence fell between us, broken only by the other guests and the music—and the rain that had started pouring so hard we could hear it over the music.

We just kind of… stared at each other. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Damian’s. The vibrant, crystalline green with their diamond-shaped hazel flecks drew me in and held me captive. I’d heard the cheesy pickup line that someone could swim in someone else’s blue eyes. But Damian’s were the canopy of a rainforest and it would be extremely easy for me to get lost in there.

It was like the rest of the room ceased to exist. It was just me and Damian, dancing around in a blur of lights and colors.

BOOM! A crack of thunder made me jump so bad that the moment was shattered. I shrieked, clutching Damian’s hand and arm hard and jumping closer to him. His hand around my shoulder blade for the dance slid over the rest of my back to hold me to him on instinct as the rest of the rumble faded out. I set my forehead against Damian’s chest.

“That scared me!” I breathed.

He rubbed my back. “It’s alright,” he said.

I nodded and pulled back. “Yeah. Sorry about that,” I apologized.

“There is no need to apologize, McCloud,” he replied.

The music carried on, so we did too, this time with a big apologetic smile on my face. Damian didn’t seem to mind my little jump at the loudest crack of thunder I’d heard in literal years. Which I was grateful for.

The song ended with Damian twirling me under his arm again and trapping me in his hold.

We were standing a lot closer to each other than we’d been at the beginning of the dance. We could have wedged a dictionary between us at the beginning, now we’d be lucky to fit a homework packet. I was close enough to smell Damian’s aftershave—or cologne. It was spicy and warm. Probably the expensive kind he used to hate wearing and only did so for fancy occasions.

Both of us were breathing heavier than normal from the exertion of dancing, still staring right at each other. Mouths parted with surprise, tiny ghosts of smiles forming on our faces.

“Thank… thanks for the dance,” I said to Damian. “You fulfilled your promise.”

He nodded. “Of course,” he replied.

Dick appeared. “Can I dance with you, Cloudy?” he asked me.

Damian let me go so abruptly I almost fell over in my heels. “Sure,” I replied. Damian nodded to me and retreated to the side of the ballroom.

“You still dance well,” Dick remarked. His dance hold was looser than Damian’s. Even less proper. His hand was more on my ribs than my shoulder blade and he held our hands at my shoulder-level instead of my eye-level (it had to be my eye-level in a proper hold because I was the shorter).

“Only when I have good partners,” I replied with a casual shrug.

Dick laughed. “So unwilling to accept a compliment,” he teased.

I would have elbowed him but I wasn’t in a good position. “Shut up. I can too accept a compliment. But a dance is only as good as its worst of the two partners.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Dick retorted.

“It is when it’s me and any of you boys and there are photographers here,” I said.

Dick contemplated that for a moment. “Good point.” He looked around. “The cameras are on you tonight.”

“I know.”

“You doing okay?”

“Of course,” I said.

“When are you doing interviews? And with whom? Have you decided yet?” Dick asked.

“Nope. Haven’t decided. I'm thinking I’ll do Cloudburst with Lois, if she’ll take it,” I replied, whispering my alias. “I like her the best. Much as I admire Clark and find his writing style pretty good… I don’t know. I just trust Lois more.”

Dick laughed. “I don’t blame you,” he said. “And what about as Nora?” He dropped his voice to a whisper.

I shrugged. “Dunno. Vicki kinda rubs me the wrong way but she’s Gotham Gazette and, you know, city pride and all that,” I said. Dick spun me under his arm.

“I can understand that,” he said. “Your dress is super pretty by the way.”

“Thanks. Damian designed it.”

“Yeah, but he mentioned you chose the color?”

“I did,” I confirmed.

“Why did you pick green? I mean, don’t get me wrong Cloudy, it looks really nice on you. Especially with the gold accents. But usually you tend to wear blue,” Dick said. I rubbed my lips together and smirked.

“Aw. You jealous, Dick, that I picked Damian’s old color over your current one?” I teased.

Dick snorted. “No,” he retorted. “Just wondering why you picked green when you told me blue was your favorite.”

I snickered. “Well, I’d tell you the reason, Dick, if I thought you could keep it a secret. But I don’t think you can so I won’t,” I said. Dick scrunched his eyebrows.

“Hey! I can keep a secret!” he protested. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“No you can’t. Not if they don’t really matter,” I said. “Important stuff, yeah sure. But not something like this. It’s not life-or-death so your big mouth will blab.” I smirked as Dick gave me a shocked look. We were both being dramatic to make each other laugh. It was working.

“C’mon Cloudy! Please?” he pleaded, giving me a pout and puppy-dog eyes. I pursed my lips.

“Sorry Dickiebird. It’s nothing personal and not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t need you telling anyone else.”

Dick huffed as the dance ended. With a dramatic flourish, he kissed my knuckles and moved to take me off the dancefloor.

Damian swooped in. “Enjoy your dance?” he asked.

“Yeah. I always love dancing with my brothers,” I said, nudging Dick with my elbow. He laughed.

“Thanks for the dance, Cloudy,” he said. “I’ll leave you two to chat.” He gave me a cheeky wink and disappeared into the crowds.

I glanced at Damian. “I'm gonna sit down. I’ve been standing in these heels for too long and dancing always makes it worse,” I said. My heels weren’t very tall, but they hurt to be on for too long. “You can go socialize if you want.”

“No, no,” Damian said. “I’ll sit with you.” He led me over to one of the nice sofas pressed against a wall. It was empty. We both sat on it, rather closer than we would have been were we alone to be gracious to anyone else who wanted to have a seat.

One of the event photographers came over to us. “‘Scuse me, sorry sir and ma’am, could I get a picture of you two? It’s just, the lady here is all anyone’s been talking about for days,” he said awkwardly.

I smiled. “‘Course,” I replied.

“Could I get you both smiling? Maybe laughing at something one-a youse said?”

Damian looked like he’d rather take a bite out of a ghost pepper than smile and laugh for a photo.

I leaned over to him. “Hey, how does NASA organize a party?” I asked.

“Tt. Likely hiring it out to a professional event coordina—” Damian began.

I cut him off. “They planet!” I corrected.

Damian planted his forehead in his hand and sighed. “McCloud…”

I busted a gut laughing at his reaction, throwing my head back and squeezing my eyes shut. He peeked at me through his fingers and dropped his hand, quirking a small, amused smile at me that actually reached his eyes. I heard a camera shutter go off. Damian shook his head, still grinning.

“You’re quite the character,” he muttered. I laughed again as the photographer slipped off. “Would you care for some air, rather than sitting in here? There is a bench on the terrace.”

“Sure,” I replied. Damian got to his feet and offered me his hand. I took it and let him help me to my feet. He looped my arm through his and escorted me outside to the terrace. We sat down again on the bench, letting the cool Gotham summer night air drift over us. The rain had stopped for the moment.

“So,” Damian started. “Ten days in the future. How are you holding up?”

I licked my lower lip and bit at it, glancing over at him. “I'm okay,” I said. “Nothing too bad yet.”

“I… I hope you stay… alright.”

Our eyes met. Damian’s had a genuine wish in them. I gave him a melancholy smile. “Thanks.”

#All My Fault #Chapter 13 #All My Fault Chapter 13 #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne Imagine #Damian Wayne FanFiction #Robin #Robin Imagine #Robin FanFiction #Batman #Batman Imagine #Batman FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction

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ruairidhbrown · 5 years

Text

It’s Been A While.

Hello everyone. It has been a long time since my lazy old Dad has written anything but he said it was something to do with being busy at work. Anyway a lot has happened since the last blog so this is a bit of an update of the last couple of years or so, along with some of the best pictures.

I am still racing with Special Olympics Scotland West but I have also raced in my first UCI sanctioned World Championships and have changed cycling clubs to one in East Kilbride, St Christophers Cycling Club.

So where did I leave off? That’s right, just before the first collarbone break. Yes, the first!

I had started 2016 as part of Scottish Cycling’s iDevelop programme and was enjoying training and racing in the Scottish Cycling Track League each Wednesday night at Sir Chris Hoy Velodrome. I had just competed in my first road race of the season in the Velo29 Crits at the Croft motor racing circuit in the north of England, had raced well in the Cat4 race and was looking forward to the next one. I had also taken a couple of wins in the C group at Track League and everything was going well until I hit the deck one Wednesday and broke my right collarbone.

So that was me sidelined for six weeks. It wasn’t all bad as I got to go to work with Dad and did a couple of cool things whilst laid up. It is true what they say – chicks dig scars.

After crashing I was a bit out of sorts and lost a bit of confidence so there wasn’t really much racing for the rest of the year, just a few local road races and time trials. I had a good weekend at the Special Olympics National Competition at Tameside in July, winning three gold medals and recording a personal best time in the 10k Time Trial.

There was no Track League that winter for me. I didn’t feel confident enough but also coming into a new season a year older meant I was no longer a Junior and the cost of entries went up quite a bit. Busy old Dad was away on a lot of Wednsedays as well so getting to and from the Velodrome wasn’t easy.

As 2017 started I knew I would be competing in the Special Olympics GB National Games in Sheffield. This is the big four yearly competition held by SOGB, so from that point of view was important. It would also be a gauge for those athletes who wanted to be selected for the SO World Games in Abu Dhabi in 2019.

There was, however, another opportunity that was coming together. SOSW coach Tom A’Hara and my Dad had been trying to get the UK Sports Association to support an entry into the INAS World Cycling Championships before but in 2017 it was taking place in Assen in Netherlands and Tom knew the people on the organizing committee of the whole event. It was down to Tom therefore that myself and fellow SO athlete Keira Byland were invited to take part as guest riders in what would be my first ever UCI sanctioned World Championships at the end of July, one week before the SO National Games.

It was a great event and I met some of the riders I had raced against at the last SO World Games in Los Angeles. The INAS event is an elite level competition for ID athletes so there was no Divisioning and I was up against former World Champions and some of the best riders in the world at my level.

It was pretty last minute when the invitations came through and I hadn’t really been doing any racing or training in preparation for the event. The first event was a 7.6km Individual Time Trial. I finished eighth, less than a minute from a podium place so I was really happy with that result.

Keira and I then took part in the Team Time Trial, but as a mixed team we wouldn’t be classified, it was really just to allow us to gain some experience. The next day was the main road race, 53.6km of a flat, open, windy course around the village of Gieten near Assen. In the first lap of the circuit I chased a lot and tried to get into a break with a Dutch rider but I really should have saved my energy as on the next lap there was a crash at the back of the field and we lost three or four riders from the race, I got dropped in the cross wind and was struggling to stay in touch. However, I kept chasing and as we came round with one lap to go the bunch had eased off and I managed to get back on.

Lars de Jong from Belgium made a jump as we headed out round the last lap and no one chased. He rode away to win the race and the rainbow jersey of World Champion. I kept going but was completely done by the end, finishing eighth again, 3:51 down on Lars.

The following week I headed to Sheffield with the Scotland West team for the SO National National Games. We raced on a 1km circuit at Forge Valley school. It was similar to Tameside where I have raced before but wasn’t quite as flat. The competition was more or less the same as previous years at Tameside, apart from a couple of new riders, so I knew what to expect. The Time Trial was tough as it was a bit windy on the day but the road races were pretty steady and I was really happy to once again come away with three gold medals.

With the prospect of competing in the INAS World Championships in 2018 I had to start training harder and racing in Track League again to keep progressing over the winter. My Dad contacted Scottish Cycling to ask about some support as UK Sports Association require their athletes to be supported by the Governing Body and part of a performance pathway. This is difficult for me as my disability doesn’t meet any of the current UCI or Paralympic classifications and on the whole the NGB and their funding partners refuse to support me. Scottish Cycling, however, very kindly invited me to be included in the Junior and U23 iDevelop pathway again. I had taken part in this two years ago so I knew what to expect. In the end I didn’t expect things to be exactly the same.

Part of the plan was to get racing in Track League again. I registered for the 2017/18 series and went along to race on the first week a little nervous but looking forward to it. Racing in the C group again I was two races into the night and feeling much more confident. However, as we went to start the last race of the night I was riding round the apron when someone in their wisdom tried to go onto the racing line by going straight up the banking, only to come straight back down again and cause a pile up, with me at the bottom, with another broken collarbone. This time on the left side so at least I now have a matching pair.

It meant that training and racing over the winter had to stop for a while yet again. I soon got back on the turbo trainer but decided that Track League was not necessarily the best place to race.

I had raced at the first event when the velodrome opened in 2013 and learnt to ride and race with the fantastic input from the youth coaches in the west of Scotland. It therefore really annoys me to see older men thinking that they have nothing to learn, and their lack of skill and experience causing accidents on the track that could easily be avoided.

So, for racing, I ended up doing something I said I would never do again after a cold, hard day at Callendar Park a few years ago and I entered the last three cyclocross races of the season. Whilst they were pretty tough going, in the end I enjoyed them and they fitted in well to my training.

Over the winter I also took the step to join St Chrostopher’s Cycling Club in East Kilbride. I am now racing in their distinctive colours and so far have done a number of cross races, time trials and road races.

At the start of 2018 I had great news. I had been selected again to race for Great Britain at the Special Olympics Games World Games, this time in Abu Dhabi in 2019. Shortly after that news I found out I had also been selected for the Great Britain team to compete in the INAS European Games and cycling World Championships that were to be held in Paris that July.

Scottish Cycling had been a big help again in the winter, including me in the iDevelop performance programme. That gave me a good fitness base ahead of the races in Paris. In the 10km TT I recorded a personal best and finished seventh overall, sixth in the European Games. The road race was much closer however. We raced over a 3.5km circuit in a 60km race. I was a lot more confident this year and was in the front group until just over two laps to go when the eventual winner broke away. The rest of the little bunch I was in started to break up and I couldn’t match the pace in what was the longest race I had ever done to that point. I managed to sprint home in seventh, over a minute behind the winners, and again sixth in the European competition.

August 2018 took us to Stirling and the Special Olympics GB Anniversary Games. This competition was mostly against the same riders I had raced in Sheffield the year before but there was a team from Belgium with a really good rider in my races.

My time trial race was hard as we raced on an athletics running track and the surface was really sticky. In the end my Great Britain team mate Daniel won the gold medal and I won silver for the Scotland West team. I was disappointed not to win the race but I was really happy for Daniel to win the gold medal. The road races were pretty tough and really tactical. The rider from Belgium was always there but really just sitting in and waiting for the sprint and we ended up with a group of four, together till the last lap. In both the 15 and 25km races I made the perfect moves and was really really happy to win gold in both.

Now the focus turns to 2019. I am only six weeks away from going to the SO World Games in Abu Dhabi. I have been training really hard, again with Scottish Cycling, and I can only hope I am as strong as I can be for races so early in the season. I don’t know who I will be competing against but I can only go there and try my hardest. Because I have been to a European and World Games before, and also competing at INAS World Championships, this may well be my last international Special Olympics Games so I am determined to try and win a gold medal.

It is also time to put myself forward for selection for the INAS Global Games and Cycling World Championships that will take place in October this year in Brisbane, Australia. It will have some track cycling so I will need to get some training in at the Velodrome if I am selected, but no Track League. Being at the end of our season at home I should be able to get a full summer of training and racing in to try to improve on my results from the last two years. Like all racing cyclists it is a dream to wear a rainbow jersey so I need to keep working hard.

There has been a lot going on and the one thing that many people don’t realize is that we; Special Olympics Scotland West, my family and friends have to fund raise for all of the costs for these competitions. My Dad worked it out and since the Special Olympics European Games in 2014 when have had to raise around £10,000 just in entry costs for the major Games. That doesn’t include the cost of my bike and kit and racing and training at home. If I race in Australia in 2019, that will be another huge expense. I have to thank everyone who has helped us financially along the way but most of all my mum and dad (you can tell he is writing this for me) who shoulder most of the costs. I have a great collection of medals, many wonderful memories and made so many friends across the world, and yet I still have a lot more I want to achieve.

Old Paw Broon has been told to keep this page up to date now so in the coming months you will be able to watch and read all about the Games in Abu Dhabi and hopefully further competitions later in the year.

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rkxblue · 5 years

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` * ✧ ✧ ECLIPSE OCTOBER EVALUATION —— SHOWCASE VIDEO RECORDING ;

“i feel like i go through this routine -- like at first things don’t feel real? like it all feels like a dream... then it comes to acceptance, and i’m able to get things done, then we do something new. lather, rinse, repeat, y’know?”

there’s something about the main lobby being so empty that makes ahyoung feel a little bit strange, as if time doesn’t exist in the normal way that it usually does; a liminal space in which reality is a bit altered. it’s just -- weird. her gaze leave the open expanse and turns back towards the camera, eyes widening once she realizes that she hasn’t answered the question that the staff has asked her. “oh crap, right. who do i feel grateful to, huh?” dark hues wander everywhere while she mulls, almost like a cheat code to her brain -- up, down, left, right, left, up ( and a look to the center for press start ).

“uhhh ~ the obvious choice would be my family, right? my mom and my little brothers, junhwan and sangmin ... they’ve all been really supportive of me since the beginning, and even through the ups and downs of it all they didn’t tell me to hang up the towel when i felt like i should have, y’know? my dad too ... he was against it for the longest time until he saw me on the mgas, and i think i conveyed my passion for this work during that time so... i was able to get him on board too. it’s still wild to think about,” she says, plays with her hands while she nods while a smile blooms upon her face in the slightest manner. “my family has always been my rock. if you show this during our showcase -- thank you for being the best family there is! i wouldn’t be here with out you -- like literally though, like --” and hands wave around the space of her body, her face wildly to signify herself before she laughs, “so shout outs to y’all, i won’t let you down!”

“and aside from that... the next obvious person would be our ceo, our og... katie lee, yeah? like i feel like me, personally, i have to! i also would literally not be here,” and the dramatics start up again, her nodding to the camera while she points to the ground before revealing the length of her arm as she motions towards the space, the building, “here, without her. i know i messed up in the past and she had every right to not bring me back during the mgas, and she did. she also had every right to not, y’know, put me in eclipse either, but she did. and i’m so eternally grateful, because even though i’m not the best, katie lee doesn’t make mistakes, right?” a couple of nods as she turns her ear towards the camera, listening before she whispers “right!” as the answer to her own question, then faces back forward with a serious, nodding expression and claps of her hands, “right. i can’t leave her or the kt trainees out, now can i? thank you so much for believing in me, even when i didn’t believe in myself.”

“okay, i know i’m talking a lot, but this is who i am! this is who you’re getting!” a point towards the camera, “but lastly! all my friends who have supported me -- especially jinki, woohyun, and jihyun, and of course, all the girls that make up eclipse! ari -- minji, jeonghwa, jennie, haseul, and anna. i’m excited what the future holds for eclipse because -- let me be cocky for just a moment -- i feel like there isn’t a group out there with our specific color and that we’ll catch everyone by surprise with our music. just you wait, were coming for you all!” there’s a point to the camera before she turns her hand into a gun and shoots at the camera, sound effects with her mouth included. time goes by where it’s silent and ahyoung remains in that position before she ends it with a laugh.

▶ : kiss my lips by boa ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ i just wanna know, how you feel about me ♡

it’s a little strange dancing to a song that requires back up dancers for the full effect, makes the room seem a little bit lonely although she’s using up a good use of space while the routine causes her to move from one side to the other -- but her dance moves aren’t what’s on display at the moment, isn’t the main event.

no, this entire taping is to show her growth. how the went from a breathy vocalist who had trouble keeping all that power within her voice to someone more refined, more professional. someone as cool and sophisticated as the words that drift along with the color blue. ( someone worthy of that stage name. )

what isn’t hard, however, is keeping tabs of the large camera at all times and how it coexists with her performance -- which angles would look best, when to bore holes into the camera with her stare while at other times give a wink, a smile, laughter that almost seems flirty while she croons within the practice room, “all you have to do is just look at me like you are right now, i need your attention.”

sure, her dance moves may not of been as refined as they were years ago, but ahyoung will take that in place of her voice being stable while she moves, with every click-clack of her heels and rotation of her hips. it doesn’t show how tired she’s become, fights it off with a little bit of an extra move -- how she rips off the jacket tied to her waist while before moving to the other side, holds on to everything she has within her voice until the end.

her head drops as the music clears the room, and ahyoung remains in her place, the only sounds heard is the harsh way she breathes through her mouth; and it’s almost as if she’s a different person with the way her head snaps up and she gives a dazzling smile while she asks the crew, “was that good? or another take?”

▶ : twinkle by tts & something by girl’s day ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ featuring ariel ( as uji & bestie ) ♡

‘clips with friends’ would seem like an opportune time to show off the variety skills that she’s been slowly honing as a trainee, to show everyone whose face they should get used to seeing upon every screen after their debut ( or so she hopes. )

but there’s always this gnawing feeling inside of ahyoung that no matter how many times she tries to bury it, to laugh it away using humor or even drink it away, it always comes back. the feeling of not being good enough as a singer. the throw away, compared to ariel and haseul. the one that’s good, but never good enough.

and it probably seems counter productive to have ariel by her side during this cover where her ethereal voice could shine; but ahyoung couldn’t think of anyone else within kt that would be better for something like this. something more mature than eclipse’s day image, and maybe even sexier than their night image. and she was a friend after all, right? ( there wasn’t that many of those left in kt, after all. )

so ahyoung sings like she has something to prove, puts everything into her voice for those long minutes that their voices blend together during this time. because she does have something to prove -- to the future naysayers, to their fans, to the group members, but most importantly, herself.

because ahyoung is in her element. sure, it may not of been the smartest choice to give the better parts ( in her opinion ) to ariel when it was her clip, and she may even come to regret the way she shouts, “everyone, are you ready?” as they transition in to something; but at this time, it’s the farthest thing from her mind. it’s the confidence within her steps that she’s trying to show, how each expression is unique and different -- yet harmonizes with the theme of the performance.

because maybe, just maybe, during this time, while she’s showing her charms, she can believe in the words she sings: even if i’m covered with a veil, obviously, i twinkle.

#❛ ▼ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‹‹ verse • SOLO ››#eclipse:octeval #* okay we good now!!!#rkariel #* b/c mentioned and is a homie #* also the gifs are probably what her her hair looks like ic wise so!!!

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

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Baking Championship

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Reader Summary: Damian can’t handle not being good at something and he severely underestimates his baking skills when he challenges you. Warnings: Not a damn one Word Count: 928 A/N: Not a request, but I haven’t gotten one for Dami yet, and I felt like he needed some love.

Alfred had picked you up almost an hour ago, so Damian couldn’t figure out why you weren’t at the manor yet. Growing impatient, he stalked around until he came upon the kitchen, and there you were. You hadn’t meant to get sidetracked, but Alfred said he was going to try his hand at baking a king cake and you couldn’t pull yourself away. His eyes widened with surprise at the sight of you.

“Y/N? What nonsense has obstructed you from me? How long have you been here?”

“Oh,” you looked up from the mixing dough, “Sorry Dami, I got distracted. Alfred’s making a king cake and I just had to know the recipe.”

“Baking? Why are you involving yourself in these frivolous things?”

“Frivolous? Baking takes practice and skill.”

“Tt, doubtful.”

You leaned over the counter and poked him square in the chest, “Want to put your money where your mouth is?”

“I am positive my capabilities would easily match yours.”

You scoffed, “Fine. Tomorrow, 10am. 4 hours to bake two-tiered cake. Loser has to do whatever the winner says for 24 hours.”

“Deal. Now come.” Damian reached for your wrist, but you pulled back. “Oh no, I have to go figure out what I’m making. See you tomorrow bird boy!” You waved him off and made your way to the front.

You had been gone seconds when Jason raced around the corner into the kitchen. “Was that Y/N? Did she bring cookies?!”

“Todd, why would my girlfriend bring you cookies?”

Jason’s face fell as his lower lip protruded outwards, “She usually brings cookies…” Tim was the next one to race, closely followed by Dick. Both of which were very disappointed to learn that there were no cookies.

“Well, will she be back tomorrow with cookies?!” Tim berated his younger brother.

“Tell us demon spawn! You better not have broken up with her!” Jason chimed in.

“Please…” Dick let out a chuckle, “We all know Y/N would be the one to break up with him.”

“Enough! She left because I may have challenged her to a baking competition.” With this Damian’s brothers lost all semblance of composure. Tim managed to collect himself, while Dick and Jason fought off spurts of laughter.

“Did you forget she’s like…an actual baker?”

“Tt, do not be ridiculous. Baking can not possibly be that difficult.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all shot knowing glances to each other; and then to Alfred who stood in the kitchen watching the events unfold.

“Well, good luck little bro. We will all be here to judge the masterpieces.” Jason threw his arm around Damian’s shoulders.

“That is unnecessary.”

“Oh believe me, it is.” One by one the three boys left the kitchen, leaving Damian alone with Alfred.

“Master Damian, do you require any special ingredients for tomorrow’s event?”

“Ingredients…right. Alfred, would you happen to know where I may procure a recipe?”

“I have a few you may find adequate. I am afraid they may not compare to those Y/N has collected.”

“Do not be daft. Baking is simple, any recipe shall do.”

Alfred tried to hold back a laugh as he reached for the recipe book, “Here you are, Master Damian.”

Damian had no idea what he had gotten himself into. You got to the manor with several ingredients in hand and promptly got to work, barely acknowledging your boyfriend bumbling around in the kitchen next to you. Pretty soon the two of you had an audience, as Dick and Jason made their way into the kitchen. You were pulling your cakes out of the oven when you glanced up to notice the intrusion.

“Have you all come to see your brother loose spectacularly?”

“Well the little demon should’ve known not to challenge you at baking…” Jason began.

“But he isn’t good at admitting someone is better than him at something.” Dick chimed in.

You chuckled at the commentary as you watched Damian struggle to pour the batter into the baking tins. Tim stumbled into the room and looked up; distress plastered across his face.

“Hey Y/N, you wouldn’t happen to have time to make me coffee?”

“Of course, I do Timmy!” Your mood was oddly bright, probably because you had very clearly already made your point to Damian. And to top it off, he was about to lose.

The next two hours went by, as you layered and iced the marble cake. Yellow, green, and red frosting separated the layers, along with a raspberry jam. You created a watercolor effect on the exterior, once again in yellow, red, and green. Finally, you placed a chocolate domino mask at the top, and then scattered chocolate feathers over the dessert.

You sat in wait, chatting with his brothers, as Damian attempted to frost the mess of a cake, which was far too hot to be iced.

“This is ridiculous.” Damian finally spoke as the cake was crumbling underneath the mountain of icing.

“Are you admitting defeat?!” You stood there astonished at the events that were unfolding.

“Never!” Damian stood firm before adding, “However, I have concluded I need more practice to adequately complete this task.”

“Does that mean we can finally eat this?” Jason chimed; he was really only here for the cake…the humiliation of his brother was just a bonus.

“Well Damian now has a kitchen to clean…but you all are welcome to dig in.” You shot a smirk in his direction, a satisfied gleam in your eyes.

“But Alfred…” Damian began, but quickly realized he couldn’t argue with you.

“Oh this is going to be fun.”

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choicesfanatic86 · 6 years

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TTS: Part 33 In Liam’s Eyes (1/2)

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC

SUMMARY: Liam learns of Riley’s accident, and is having a difficulty time coping.

If you are new to the series and would like to catch up by reading previous parts, please check out my master fan fiction listing. CATCH UP HERE

TAGS: @herladyshipxx @theroyalweisme @blackcatkita @devineinterventions2 @hopefulmoonobject @captainkingliam @pbchoicesobsessed @cocomaxley @queencatherynerhys @mfackenthal @boneandfur @spetstoof @bobasheebaby @grapefrults @pessimystic-fangirl @dralenamax @mspaigemoore @drakelover78 @kaitycole @jayjay879 @hhiggs @umccall71 @penguininapinktuxedo @topsyturvy-dream @decisso @pnhanga @ladynonsense @mrs-simmy @jamielea81 @alwaysthebestchoice @hamulau @mrsdrakewalkerblog @crookedslimecreatorpasta @liamxsworld @flowerpowell

5/20/18 - This had to be split into two parts. Please note that you will not need to read this part in order to figure out what happens in part 34. It would help though since this part (the part 2 of this part) gives you a little sneak peak at what’s to come. ;) Part 2 will be posted 7:00 pm HST. :)

As always thank you for the awesome feedback. SO blessed and lucky to have ya’ll reading my fics!

PART 33 - In Liam’s Eyes (Part 1)

Liam hadn’t been in the mood for a party, but Olivia was one of his dearest friends. She’d also been working extraordinarily hard on a new initiative that could bolster the small country’s tourism. So when she approached him about possibly providing the venue for her upcoming birthday celebration that Drake would be hosting, he didn’t have the heart to tell her no. She deserved this celebration, and he was happy enough to oblige, although he did find it curious why it was her asking him instead of Drake.

Even though he could think of a handful of ways he could better be spending his evening, he didn’t want to disappoint her, and it did provide a healthy diversion from the multitude of other thoughts on his mind. He’d spent most evenings lately locked in his study, sipping scotch and working on bills that needed his review and approval. He enjoyed keeping busy. Busy was good because busy meant less time to think. He wasn’t a big fan of thinking lately. It had gotten him into far too much trouble.

He watched from his balcony as handfuls of Cordonia’s most elite nobles wandered into the palace; Liam wondered if his presence would be greatly missed at the celebration. He considered doing a once around the room then sneaking back into his study so that at least Olivia couldn’t fault him for not showing up. But he thought better of it when he realized that regardless, these people were in his home, and it would be hard to explain away the fact that he wasn’t present at least for a majority of the night. He sighed, leaving his study to head toward the main ballroom.

As he walked leisurely around the room, greeting the various nobles, his eyes wandered to Maxwell who was escorting Lady Andy in from one of the side doors. They made their way toward the appetizer table, and appeared to make themselves quite comfortable. It was amazing that Maxwell had found himself a woman who could handle all of his antics, more so, that she enjoyed his little quirks more than anything. As he walked over, he heard Andy laugh sweetly, smiling brightly. So much of her personality reminded him of Riley. He wondered if I was a requirement to be funny in order to live in New York. Both girls had similar personalities and similar mannerisms, and it absolutely killed him when he was around her. She reminded him so much of Riley. He liked Andy, he truly did, but every time he saw her, his heart hurt just a bit more because it was a constant reminder that Riley was gone. For good. All because of him. Liam composed himself. He couldn’t think about this now. It was over and done with. He had made his decision, and he would stand by it. He was the country’s monarch. He couldn’t bother himself with such trivial concerns. He cleared his throat, making his presence known to the distracted couple.

“Lady Andy, Lord Maxwell,” he bowed his head in greeting. “How wonderful of both of you to join us this evening. Lady Olivia will be pleased to see you,” he grasped Maxwell’s hand firmly. “Lady Andy, you look quite lovely this evening.”

She blushed, mumbling a quiet thank you. She still didn’t seem to be very comfortable at court. She had a hard time blending in with the other nobles, and he wondered if that’s what Riley felt like at times, that he was too blind to see it.

“Where’s the guest of honor?” Andy asked, pulling a card out from her handbag. “We wanted to give this to her before it gets forgotten,” she smiled lightly.

“I’m fairly certain she’s in the kitchens yelling at the caterer,” Liam mused. “Nothing has been going quite right for her today, unfortunately.”

“The birthday girl is worrying about planning snafus at her party?” Maxwell raised his eyebrows. “I thought Drake was the one planning things.”

Liam stifled a quiet laugh. “Do you really think that Lady Olivia would entrust her birthday celebration to our dear friend, Drake? He barely tolerates the court events we host. Did you really think that he’d be amiable to planning an event . . . for the ever particular Lady Olivia?”

“Of course not,” Maxwell shrugged. “I figured he’d at least be helping today, though.”

Liam shook his head. Maxwell, ever the optimist; it’s why they were such good friends. He needed Maxwell’s positivity in his life. “I’m sure he’s with her in the kitchens. His hand likely glued to a bottle of whiskey,” Liam chuckled.

Andy snickered a little, as if there were some private joke he wasn’t included in. Her eyes lit up much like Riley’s did when she laughed. His lighthearted mood started to take a nosedive. “Well, I better be off. Olivia should be back soon to make the formal announcements of dinner. I’ll let her know to come and find you as soon I see her,” he waved goodbye, intending to grab a drink to numb his mind a bit, however, as soon as he left their presence, he had gotten caught up with discussion with an ambassador on the country’s new trade agreements.

That seemed to be the trend throughout the evening. Liam bounced from one person to another, and really had no opportunity to make a break for his study. He had found himself caught up with one of the local dukes on his new education initiative that he had hoped to implement by the following school term. The duke was making a passionate bid for some additional programs, and Liam was listening intently to his suggestions, until Olivia’s voice pierced through the room’s sound system.

“Is this thing on?” She said rather loudly, her voice bouncing off the ceiling. “Thank you everyone for deciding to spend your evening celebrating my birthday,” Olivia smiled brightly, holding a large champagne flute in her hand. “Dinner will be served promptly in around thirty minutes, and then we will be graced with the wonderful performance of . . . “

Liam’s attention waned in and out of Olivia’s speech. It was all the same. Every party, every ball. It followed the same structure, there was nothing really different or special about it. His attention shifted back to the duke, who continued to speak despite Olivia’s loud voice. He tried to pay attention, but found his gaze wandering to Andy and Maxwell in the corner of the ballroom. They were seated at a table with Savannah and Bertrand. Both couples were quite taken with one another. It was amazing how a few years could change so much. He remembered, before he became king, they had all been single and lived relatively carefree lifestyles. It was amazing to see everyone settling down, making lives for themselves. He was particularly surprised at how drastic Maxwell’s life had changed over the last couple of months. He had always known that Maxwell, with his effervescent charm, did well when it came to landing women, keeping them, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. He’d had his fair share of fleeting romances, but they were always with women who could never seem to last beyond a few weeks. It usually ended in him getting bored and driving the poor girl insane with his antics. Andy was different. Andy was a keeper.

As happy as he was for his friends, he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. He wanted what they had. He thought he had found it, but unfortunately, it seemed like once again, love just wasn’t a part of the hand that life had dealt him. Perhaps he was better off anyway. Love was always a distraction. He always found it difficult to balance what he knew he needed to do and what he wanted. He could never invest his time equally. That’s why he had lost Riley the first time. He was torn between what he knew should happen and what he wanted. So what if the monarchy died with him? Perhaps one of Leo’s children would fare better as the country’s monarch one day. That is if they even wanted it. He best knew the sacrifices he made for the monarchy, for his country, and for his people.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shrill cry. The duke was still yammering away, unfazed by the cry that just broke through the ballroom. He swallowed thickly, his eyes wandering across the room, hoping that nothing was gravely wrong. His eyes drifted to the corner, where Andy had been sobbing loudly.

His heart dropped to his stomach. Something was wrong. He could see it written on Andy’s face.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he cut the duke off, rushing to the corner table, not caring if he offended the man.

“Tiger Lilly? What is it?” Maxwell arose from his chair, grasping her shoulder tightly.

“It’s Riley! Something’s wrong,” she said frantically, fiddling with the buttons on her phone, trying to dial a number. “I can’t get through,” she sobbed.

At the mention of Riley’s name, Liam could have sworn that his heart had stopped for a moment. The ballroom started to get hazy, and the voices around him were echoing inside of his head. What happened to her? “What’s wrong?” he asked carefully. “Did she try calling you?”

She shook her head hysterically. “N-no,” she stammered. “It was just a voicemail. Alicia said they were at the hospital,” she said through her hyperventilation.

He licked his lips, trying to place the name she mentioned. He’d heard it before, but he couldn’t remember what the relationship was. But that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered is they figured out what was going on with Riley and go from there.

Bertrand walked over to a crying Andy, a displeased look on her face. “You’re making a scene, it might be prudent to continue this discussion outside,” he said sternly.

“B-but, it’s Riley.”

His face softened at the mention of Riley’s name. “Lady Riley? What’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Andy, just breathe for a moment,” Liam looked at her, grasping her hand. “Take a few deep breaths, and let’s start at the beginning. What did the voicemail say?”

“That there had been an accident,” she inhaled deeply, “and that she was at New York Presbyterian with Andy. She said she was unconscious.”

Liam took a sharp intake of breath. He tried not to let it show, but he was winded. The fact that she was involved in some sort of accident was worrisome enough, but to hear that she was unconscious, that was even worse.

“Unconscious?” Maxwell gasped. “As in . . . a coma?”

Liam’s heart crumbled. Of course Maxwell would jump to the most outrageous conclusion, but then again, what if he was right? What if she was in a coma? Oh Lord, he’d been so awful to her. He’d said such horrible things to her because he was hurt and jealous, and now he didn’t even know if she was alright.

“Call the hospital,” Bertrand ordered. “If you can’t get through to her dingbat friend, go to the source. Now, Andy.”

She nodded, taken aback by his gruff tone. Her hands trembled as she searched for the hospital’s number.

“Hello? Yes . . . yes I need to check on the status of a patient. Her name is Riley Lawson. I’m not sure what happened, I just got a voicemail saying she was at New York Presbyterian,” her eyes met Liam’s, as she tried to hold herself together. “No, no not from the hospital, from her assistant. I – uh – I’m assuming sometime today? I just got the message, and it doesn’t really give me too much information. I’d imagine she’d be in the emergency room?”

“What are they saying?” Bertrand demanded, his face grim.

Andy didn’t answer, she was too focused on the phone call. “We made each other our emergency contacts in case something happened. It might be on record? Oh, well I can’t really do that as I’m in Europe right now,” she mumbled. “There has to be something else I can do? I can do like a video chat. Oh, you don’t have that sort of capabilities. I – I don’t know anyone else who can go down . . . I guess I’ll just have to keep trying to her phone, maybe her assistant will answer,” she sighed, tears running down her cheeks. “Can you at least tell me if she’s there? You can’t?” She gasped, the sobs starting again. “No, I understand. I understand.”

Andy looked at the three men surrounding her, shaking her heads. “They couldn’t help me. Something about me having to show identification to prove who I am,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I should have been with her, then none of this would have happened.”

“Andy, don’t say that,” Maxwell hugged her tightly. “We don’t even know what happened yet,” he tried to reason with her.

“What do you mean they won’t release any information from you?” Bertrand fumed.

“That’s what the girl I spoke with said,” Andy shrugged.

“Did you ask to speak to a manager?” He asked in annoyance.

“Obviously, I didn’t Bertrand,” she sniffled.

“Unacceptable. Give me the number,” he had his hand out waiting for her phone.

“Bertrand, perhaps this isn’t the best course of action. Perhaps there’s another way. I’m sure I can make some calls to the American embassy, see if they are able to procure the information we are looking for,” Liam tried to rationalize things.

Bertrand held his finger up toward Liam, shaking his head. “Yes, my name is Bertrand Beaumont. An acquaintance of mine called earlier regarding a Riley Lawson. We wish to know her medical status. Yes well she is a member of my family. What’s it matter that we don’t have the same last name?” He narrowed his eyes at the phone. “She’s a sister,” he said firmly. “Well, I can’t come down to the facility because I’m currently in Europe,” he explained tersely.

“Her social security number? How in the bloody hell would I know that? No, this is unacceptable. I would like to speak to your superior officer. That will not do. Let me speak to an administrator then. No I don’t know what time it is there. As your thick head does not seem to be comprehending, let me speak clearly and slowly. I. Am. In. Europe. It is impossible for me to come down,” he yelled into the phone. “Hello? Hello?” He threw the phone back to Andy. “They hung up on me,” he said angrily.

“Guys, Olivia wants you to quiet down. You’re disrupting the cello performance. She’s kind of freaking out that there seems to be some sort of incident with ‘my people’, as she put it, so what’s going on?”

“It’s Riley,” Maxwell murmured. “She’s in a coma,” he said sadly.

“What? Lawson?” Drake exclaimed, his eyes scanning over everyone’s fear-stricken faces. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Maxwell,” Liam shook his head. “We don’t know anything yet,” he explained. Andy received a voicemail, but it didn’t reveal as much information as we would hope.”

“I need to go to New York,” Andy sniffled. “I need to get back there and find out how she is. I’m just wasting time being here. I need to know she’s okay,” she looked at Maxwell pleadingly.

Liam cleared his throat. “We’ll get you on the first flight to New York. Anything you need, it will be at your disposal. I assure you, we will make sure you’re on that flight within the hour,” he said firmly. “Maxwell, take her home, help her get packed. Then take her to the airport. The plane will be waiting when she gets there,” Liam said calmly.

Andy and Maxwell left the ballroom. Bertrand followed shortly after retrieving Savannah from their table. Liam excused himself to his study, his phone already pressed to his ear making the arrangements for Andy to utilize his private plane. For a moment, he wanted to go himself. He thought about packing a quick bag and heading to the airport and fly to New York with Andy by his side, but then he realized, she probably wouldn’t want him there. He’d said such horrible things to her. She probably didn’t want to ever look at him again. Drake was right. As soon as she left, he should have called her to apologize. He should have stopped her from leaving . . . but he was too embarrassed. To prideful. He didn’t want to admit that he was wrong. He knew deep down that she wouldn’t betray him, but with Paul being back, and learning about their shared kiss, he just couldn’t fathom losing her again. He wasn’t going to let her be the one to break him. He was going to break her first. He was going to make sure she didn’t have the chance to shatter his heart again. And look where it got him. Broken and alone anyway. As much as he wanted to make amends and pretend as if the outburst had happened, he just couldn’t. No, he lost the right to love her and care about her the moment he kicked her out of the palace. And for what? To lick the wounds of his injured ego? To ensure he kept his pride. It hardly seemed worth it now, considering she was in the hospital.

He poured himself a glass of scotch, filling it up much more than he typically did. He needed something extra strong to numb the pain tonight. He gazed out the window, much like he did the night he told her to leave, overcome with emotion, he allowed a single tear to fall down his cheek.

A knock at the door, startled him. He wiped the stray tear away, composing himself. He sniffled, as he said, “Come in.”

Drake marched in, looking distraught. A glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Seems like we had the same idea,” Liam said, raising his glass.

“You doing okay?” Drake asked him, rubbing his free hand behind his neck. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmured, sitting in the chair across from the window.

“Has Olivia calmed down?” Liam asked, not wanting to focus on the issue at hand.

“After I explained to her that something happened to Riley, she cooled it,” he sighed. “I knew this party was a bad idea,” he shrugged. “I got a text from Maxwell. Andy’s flight took off about ten minutes ago,” he said quietly.

“Good,” he whispered, taking a long sip from his scotch. He continued to gaze out the window, not able to meet Drake’s eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” Drake asked, watching him carefully.

“Her. Always her,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Liam,” Drake leaned forward.

“And if she isn’t?” He said darkly, his mouth formed into a thin line.

Drake sat silent. “She has to be,” he shrugged. “Come on, Liam. She’s Lawson. She’s a bad ass. We won’t know anything until Andy gets back to New York. Quick thinking on the private plane, by the way. Getting through commercial would have taken three times as long,” Drake reasoned.

“Yes, well. It’s the least I can do considering . . .” he let the thought trail off, knowing Drake would know what he was referring to.

“Yeah, you uh . . . didn’t want to go with her?” Drake hummed out.

Liam shook his head slowly. “It wouldn’t have been right,” he said. “Considering what happened before she left,” he reasoned.

Drake watched him sadly. He could see the despair in Liam’s eyes. “So uh, I was supposed to give you something . . . I didn’t know when the right time would be,” he shrugged, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. “I’ve been hanging onto it for a while . . . sorry it got a bit messed up since I’ve had it so long . . . I was uh . . . waiting to see if you were ready to read it . . . It’s from Lawson,” he rambled.

Liam’s eyes turned away from the window, meeting Drake’s gaze. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. She told me not to open it, and for fear of her wrath, I listened. Seemed pretty important though . . . she wanted me to give it to you when you were ready.”

He nodded, motioning to the desk. “Just leave it on my desk,” he said quietly.

“You’re not going to open it?” Drake asked.

“Later,” Liam murmured. “Go be with Olivia, Drake. Don’t take a single day for granted, otherwise, you’ll end up like this,” he raised his glass, his eyes red from a mixture of tiredness and heartache.

Drake shook his head, looking at the sadness in his eyes. “It’s never too late you know,” Drake murmured as he got up and started to walk towards the study’s door.

“I’m already late, Drake. She’s in the goddamn hospital,” he sighed raising his glass once more before downing the rest of the contents. He let the amber liquid burn his throat. When he heard the door click shut, he allowed himself to give into the overwhelming tears that threatened to fall since Andy got that damn voicemail.

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