#(it's fine though he can hold his own against whatever enraged onslaught he gets)

[lanliingwang]

Knowing I have this headcanon in regards to FGO Jiang Ziya's approach to unarmed combat (and tbh combat in general lol) makes particular scenarios regarding friendly sparring with other Heroic Spirits in Chaldea fun to contemplate (especially with my other three big favorite characters -- Arjuna, David, and Oberon)

[spicysoftsweet]

Prompt:  “So you’re my future bride? You’re not what I expected at all.” by @hisokapegger​‘s request. (Arranged Marriage AU, Illumi x Reader)

A/N: A short scene with quite a bit of dialogue, but this is meant as a small character exploration for good old needleboy. I hope you appreciate something in this! 

P.S. if you would like a backstory to one of Illumi’s comments, please read this previous fic!

---

“So you’re my future bride? You’re not what I expected at all.”

The young man sitting before you kept his tone light and without affect, and despite the vague impression that you had just been insulted, you couldn’t quite sense malice or disappointment in his voice. He punctuated the end of his sentence with a sip of tea he took with his eyes closed, the simple action involving an inordinate amount of effortless grace.

Then he let out a brief sigh, his face still blank as usual but continuing his just mildly disinterested gaze on you. 

You fought the urge to scowl at him. Instead you too reached out to grab your own cup of tea, trying to match the same level of poise, only to knock the fine china over, spilling hot tea over your side of the table. A small yelp escaped you and you leapt up to catch the cup before it hit the ground, only to have the sharp crashing sound accent your failure.

Your eyes darted to your future husband in a panic, then over to a butler, the sole other presence in this room, who was already rushing to clear your mess. 

“Have a seat.” Illumi commanded quietly, taking yet another sip. “It’s not a big deal,” he continued as the butler mopped the already cooling spill before you.

What an impression you were making, you thought for a moment, then realized you had been trying to impress him. Why?

Even if you could already tell he was out of your league and knew it too, you didn’t have to prove yourself. The two of you were already engaged to be married against your will and likely against his, after all. Your father had even said it was a miracle the Zoldycks had agreed, as you were unteachable as an assassin - your parents had tried - and your Hatsu was useless in combat. 

You’re lucky someone will even accept you as you are, you had been told. 

Looking at the man whose stare lingered as though he were sizing up your worth, you weren’t so sure that was true. You settled in your chair again, trying to come up with something to say to distract yourself from the fact that you had already started breaking your in-law’s possessions, but he spoke first.

“You’re attractive but appear clumsy. You’re also healthy-appearing but clearly lack any appreciable power.”

Another unsolicited harsh set of statements, delivered with nonchalance, his fingers tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. If he had planned to insult you behind closed doors, what was the point of this? Is this how you would get to know each other?

Unable to hold yourself back, you found yourself retorting, “Does it really matter? We-”

“It does,” he interjected. “I have work to do and I cannot spend my time concerned with your health and safety,” he clarified, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world. There was a finality to his tone that enraged you. You already could not imagine spending another hour with him, let alone your entire life.

You’d had enough.  

You rose to your feet rapidly, a small part of you hoping the impact of your display of outrage wouldn’t be muted by the enormously large bouffant dress you were wearing by your soon-to-be mother-in-law’s recommendation.

“With all due respect, Mr. Zoldyck -” - his eyebrows rose at the stress you put on the appellation - “I did not come here to be insulted. If you don’t like what you see, that’s honestly just too bad. I am not too enthralled by becoming your wife myself and this conversation is only making it worse.”

You inhaled sharply before continuing, refusing to let yourself be interrupted again before you finished your tirade.

“However, our parents are likely not going to budge on this affair, and I, in particular, don’t care to prove anything to you. I will play my role and nothing more, nothing less. Understood?”

A moment passed while the two of you looked at each other. Illumi continued to sit relaxed in his chair while you stood, somewhere between agitated and irritated, realizing as time passed that you’d possibly crossed a line.

After all, he wouldn’t have to marry you if you were dead.

And when he rose to meet you at then past your height so that he was staring down at you instead, expression calm yet unsettling given the fact that you had all but yelled at him, you braced yourself for whatever onslaught was coming. 

Instead, something almost imperceptible must have changed, and you couldn’t see it in his smooth facial features or in his large, dark eyes or even in his voice, but he seemed to soften. The rest of his body followed suit, his wide shoulders relaxing, and he took a deep breath. 

“I apologize. I… have found that things are easier when I look at things more objectively.”

You didn’t move, but your hands moved from where they were gripping the table to your side, as you waited for him to continue.

“The last and only time I ever loved someone I was encouraged to end it.”

You looked at him in confusion at the sudden blatant honesty, but could you really say it was out of place for him? From what you’d already observed, he seemed to say anything that was on his mind anyway, for better or for worse.

“Please sit,” he invited you this time rather than commanded, and you found yourself dropping back into your chair. His voice was softer and it was almost disconcerting. You could tell it was not natural for him to be nice. Polite yes, but not kind.

Observing him again as he spoke, you re-evaluated your stance. Maybe the harsh language, the disdain buried in his gaze and the measured movements were less meant to scare you off but to rein himself in. While he could look intimidating, you could imagine him soft as a child if he was genuinely happy. Could he be genuinely happy? You started to become curious.

“I know Mother and Father chose you themselves, but I can’t be too sure. They’ve changed their minds on a whim before.”

A pit formed in your stomach but you nodded. Their families were… different.

“I will not promise to love you. However, I can do my duty. I always have.”

[olympusnerd]

Zeus VS Aphrodite

Carnal desires.  

Insatiable urges. 

Sensual satisfaction. 

There were many ways to describe the gripping effect of Aphrodite’s power, and the Greecian goddess of all things beautiful and erotic had experienced every kind known to exist. She prided herself on knowing just how to invoke her powers, charm the body, and push mortals and god’s alike to the edge of ecstasy.  

That’s not to say that there weren’t complications with her gifts. 

Sometimes- not all the time, but sometimes- there were those who could be numb to her powers. They would never know the joys of yearning or the tender caresses of a lover. 

Then, as often as light needs a day, there was the other extreme. Those who could filled with such an uncontrollable hunger for flesh that even Aphrodite felt disgusted by the act. 

Zeus was such a man. 

The times Zeus sought after young mortals and goddesses had been insurmountable long before the goddess received the honor of the name Olympian. As the last daughter of Uranus, she was fortunate to make an alliance with the children of Cronus and Rhea just before he and his siblings took down the Titans and Primordial gods alike. With this alliance she was granted a prestigious title: goddess of all things beautiful, sensual and passion related.

But now because of one uncontrollable man she was losing face in her own doman. 

What could the goddess of love do against the king of the gods?

Feeling such a way, of course she would deny the audacious King when he tried his hand at seducing the goddess. 

"I only make love for pleasure, for myself and my partner. You, mighty king of Olympus, seek only your own satisfaction. I won't be used like the other women you play with, and I will certainly not be another victim of your wife's spite. I may tempt married men, but I respect Hera too much to lower myself for you."

Hera, his wife. His poor, poor wife. She had grown resentful over the years for all of his affairs, to the women who received his seed as well as to the children unfortunate enough to be born out of these unions. To the goddess's annoyance, the queen blamed her for her husband's many indiscretions. 

Marriages are so bothersome, Aphrodite thought. Her own wasn't, as Hephaestus learned early on that the goddess would not be restrained by the monotonies of a monogamous relationship, but that sort of marriages only worked if both couples agreed. And though one would suspect she would sympathize with Zeus’s need to let one loose, so to speak, it instead sickened her. 

The love making most of the time lacked love at all. He plowed through mortals and goddess alike, and to her displeasure, he did so either in disguise to trick his poor victims or without consent. 

It enraged her. 

Yet even still, when she inevitably denied the king of gods the satisfaction of bedding her, she was relieved when he didn’t press the matter further. 

The goddess went on about her business without another thought. She refused lovers all the time and she was, more or less, equal to Zeus in this matter. Even if he wanted to take her without her approval, her powers over all things sex related could go just as terribly against him as his thunderbolt against another god. She could just as likely curse him with impotence. 

And he was lucky, she surmised, that she hadn’t already cursed him with a dysfunction for irritating her.

One evening, while the Olympians were all gathered together for a feast- as they did on numerous occasions- food was not the only appetite that was brought up over the food. 

“You’re quite possibly the most sexually appealing creature in all of the universe,” Dionysis complemented, leaving a trail of kisses along the goddess’s foot. “I cannot think of a god, goddess or titan that could even remotely compare to the bliss that lies in your bedchamber.” 

Though Ares and Hephaestus both looked equally annoyed by the comment, there was no argument to be made. Even the goddesses had to concede that Aphrodite was incredibly, unmistakably, insurmountably sexy. 

But one god’s voice dashed the complement like a pest. “I’d disagree.”

All of the heads turned to see Zeus, nonchalantly biting into a fig as if he hadn’t insulted another of his court. “While I’m sure the goddess of love is fine in bed, maybe even sometimes commendable, there’s a far more better sight beneath a man than someone who’s slept around.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aphrodite couldn’t believe her perfect ears. 

Was he joking?

What sort of idiot would make such a joke?

“I’m not saying anything against you in particular, sweet Ditey, I only mean that, well,  nothing you could offer could measure up to the cunt of… well, a young virgin,” Zeus went on much to everyone’s discomfort.

Prudish Hera looked aghast at such words coming from her own husband. Demeter nearly spit out his ambrosia. Hades stared awkwardly at his food like he hadn’t heard. Dionysis, Ares, Hephaestus and Posiedon, all past lovers of the goddess of sex, felt a sting in their own stomachs at the sour words. Even the blessed virgins Hestia, Athena and Artemis were surprised by the abysmal blasphemy.

 Every part of what he said was meant to dig into the sex icon’s pride. 

Fine. Sometimes commendable. Young. Virgin. 

Each one was as sharp as a knife in her gut, but the goddess, never one to shy away from a battle of tongues, only smiled. 

“I’m afraid I would have to politely disagree. While I will admit there is nothing quite like the feel of an innocent young woman, many think the tightness of a virgin cunt is the most pleasure a man can feel. But those people are wrong. The loss of virginity in itself isn’t supposed to be exciting. It’s supposed to be tender. Affectionate. Warm,” she retorted gently to her king. “A woman entering into womanhood is not a moment to be taken lightly or without conscience. The worst sin a man can do, in my humble opinion, is take a girl’s flower without the intention of so much as holding her afterwards. Or to leave her with a child she must fend for alone. Sure, an inexperienced girl can feel good for a moment up until her hymen is broken, but that’s only because some men cannot handle a woman with an appetite or strength that matches their own. They crave taking that innocence and then once they have snatched it up, poof. The desires are gone. They fail to see the potential of a well versed, mature, hungry woman that is fed just the right amount of love and attention. I’ve had sex countless times, with countless men and women. It is a language in itself, the movement of one body against another. Sometimes several bodies. But to me, someone who is truly experienced in the art of love making doesn't need a certain type of cock or cunt to feel satisfied. They create satisfaction wherever their affections are returned."

The room was dead silent, the cupbearer Ganymede not daring to refill the golden goblets in fear for becoming a target of whatever animosity was sure to fly out at any moment.

Zeus, whose face was notably red at the onslaught of pretty words used to undermine his sexual prowess, was just about to speak when Hera instead stood up. "Well this has been an… enlightening course, but I do believe its getting late. I think we'll turn in for the night. Good evening to you all."

When Zeus opened his mouth, the sharp, spiteful gaze of his wife made him rethink. "Yes," he answered through a clenched jaw. "Good evening."  

Aphrodite, not one to be a rude guest, offered her sweetest smile as she and the other patrons rose from their chairs to depart. "Goodnight."

Game. Set. Match. 

[0l1v3juice]

Departure

Never in my wildest dreams could I have known that I would be granted the opportunity to meet such kind and unique people. I can still remember everything from start to finish, like it just happened yesterday. Even the moments in which I felt consumed by fear, the memory does not fade. I do not think I will ever forget this experience. Then again, I also really do not want to. Who would want to lose any of the memories they have relating to their most cherished relationships, even the ones that hurt or are scary? In the beginning, though, things were neither painful nor scary; things were bleak.

I remember hinting to my friends that we should not leave the village, but of course we would anyway. Whether or not we stayed or left, war would continue to consume our lives and destroy our livelihood. We were far too outnumbered to stand up to either the Alliance or the Horde, so we played an insignificant force in the war as a supplier of food resources. There were a few people here and there who would abandon the village to join the ranks of our oppressors, but the lot of us simply resisted that temptation. We were nothing if not resilient. Our spirits would not be broken by the onslaught of foreign nations declaring war over our own soil. There had been rumors circulating that neighboring villages had driven off all the soldiers from either side that dared to fight on their land, and we used this as our fuel to keep fighting. Eventually, however, one day, we grew weary of the senseless bloodshed.

“There must be a better way to deal with this than to merely ride it out,” I pleaded to my fellow villager.

“When we have the forces to drive them back, we will know. Until then, we must survive. You know in your heart that there is no other way, Hunjun,” she sighed to me. 

As much as I did not want to keep hearing it, I knew that she was right. But I was growing more concerned as the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. Our numbers were dwindling. Some of us who openly opposed the commandeering of land which was already inhabited and cared for ended up paying the price for speaking out - either by harsh physical labor or other means of subordination. Many of us did not survive the transition into forced servitude. We are a gentle race, but we are also determined and persistent. It was difficult to watch so many of us fall to their torture. We simply would not sit idly by in the face of injustice and cruelty. There was nothing just about the war being fought between the two factions, and so we fought back. 

To fight back was our downfall, as ill-prepared as we were. Our quiet, peaceful village was not as prepared for battle as it should have been. As our numbers grew smaller and more of our resources were stolen by soldiers, our lives diminished before us, and we lost hope of redemption for our village. Soon it was just Maysam, Toolani, Songxue, Shen, Mao Cung, and me.

“I don’t know how much longer we can live like this,” cried Toolani.

“We are not living, we are surviving. If you want to live, first you have to survive,” Shen counseled her.

“But it has been this way for so long. Could you so easily chide our brothers and sisters out there slaving away for our enemies?” Mao Cung rebuked.

“Mao is right; if surviving and holding out were the answer, there would not be so many of us dead or enslaved!” lamented Songxue.

As the days drew nearer to our eventual decision to escape the prison of our last safe house, discussions like this were not uncommon. Shen was always level-headed, but did not understand that we were dealing with entirely foreign forces. Toolani's parents had been a part of the resistance which was stamped out by the soldiers, and it took more and more of a mental toll on her every day. The prospect of our kin being enslaved on our own land enraged Mao Cung beyond belief, especially as the last remaining member of the family who led the village. Songxue knew not what to do besides mourn our losses. Maysam and I typically remained silent during these discussions, since they usually led to nowhere. But not that day. Maysam interrupted the bickering with one thoughtful question:

“What reason do any of us have to oppose the idea of leaving our forsaken village?” 

There was a moment of silence, and Songxue responded first.

“Would we not be abandoning our kin and leaving them to a life of servitude until death?” she remarked.

“Songxue, while it is admirable that you wish to free our brethren, what ability do any of us here have to do so? What makes you feel certain that we would not end up as they have? Should we not carry on a legacy for this village and make our escape before everyone is lost?” Maysam admonished. Songxue lowered her head and nodded in sorrowful understanding.

Mao Cung stewed in his thoughts for a moment before voicing a bothersome detail about Maysam's proposal.

“It's a pretty cowardly thing to do. I know staying here would likely result in our ultimate demise, but in facing our ends with pride, we die with honor. You should like to dishonor the name of our village by cowardly retreating in its dying moments?” he criticized.

Maysam was taken aback by his assertion. She meditated on his sentiments for a few moments before he continued.

“We are not living, we are surviving. We must survive until the very end in order to bestow honor upon our village's name and our own names. What would our ancestors think of us, running away and leaving what they have given us to become ruins? Though our defeat is certain, we still must face it with bravery and pride for our loved ones, do you not agree? Certainly you understand what that means,” Mao Cung finished.

“There is a difference, a fine line between bravery and foolishness, Mao Cung. What good would it do us or our ancestors to wait patiently in our seats for the kiss of death? Brave heroes face certain death when it means a greater good is accomplished. Fools await their demise in the name of the so-called ‘honor’ that comes waiting. There is no honor in senseless bloodshed. There is no honor in this war. I am certain that our ancestors would want us to rebuild their legacy where fertile soil awaits. We cannot change the fates of those we loved and lost, but we can continue living for them. Does that not sound like what you would want, Mao?” Maysam spoke. Mao Cung reflected for a moment before agreeing with the sentiments Maysam expressed. Truly, she was making a groundbreaking decision.

With Maysam's speeches granting reassurance to Toolani and Shen that escape was the right thing to do, it seemed as though we were all in agreement with the idea. Then, I spoke on one important detail.

“Where shall we go?”

Songxue and Mao Cung's eyes fixated on me in confusion, while Shen, Toolani, and Maysam shared a look of insightful despondency. They knew what I meant, and they did not have an answer. No one could have.

“Where shall we escape to? A neighboring village already consumed by the war? What about the dense forests that we can trek through to reach the beaches? Will there not be soldiers arriving on those beaches? What would we do then?”

As I barraged them with question after question, the atmosphere quickly withdrew from hopeful to despairing. It was unintentional, but I refused to welcome hope into my heart again only to have it ripped away. They had all forgotten how prevalent the presence was of those pests we were hiding from. Soldiers were on every beach, constantly arriving with new and improved plans to burn our villages and take our resources. How would we expect to get past them? Daunting as the task seemed, Shen remembered to never lose that hope that I had already lost.

“We are all willing to do whatever it takes to carry on our legacy, so there must be a way,” he proclaimed.

A moment of silence passed before Toolani spoke.

“I may have an idea, but you won't like it,” she told us.

I can still remember the feeling that overcame me when she sighed those words. In my heart, I felt grief - grief that was so strong, I almost thought I had already lost her. I am certain we all knew what she was going to say before she shared her plan with us. Toolani was a very skilled mage, of course her idea would include the use of her talents, likely against the invaders. However, something told me that she would likely not make it with us in our journey onward. It seemed that Toolani was the only one willing to accept the fact that we would not all make it. Before she could continue with the details, Maysam sprung into the conversation.

“No! I will not allow you to put yourself on the line and ultimately die at the hands of these savages! Do you want to end up as the rest of our brothers and sisters have?” Maysam implored Toolani not to go through with it. But Toolani's mind was already made up. 

“No, sister, I don’t. And I wish to shield the rest of you from meeting that same fate as well. But I know - I know full well that they will not stop coming. If we are to escape, it must be now. We don't have the luxury of time. We don't have the promise of good fortune. So, I must do everything in my power to protect you all and keep the memory of our beloved village alive. It is my duty. Please, May, let me lead you all to victory,” Toolani calmly spoke. 

We all sat in a moment of silence in respect to the bereavement we knew we would be experiencing soon enough. Following shortly after, Toolani shared with us her plan. It was bold and daring, just her style. She had carefully concocted the idea so we would have a means of escape and a length of time to expect for travel away from our home. Toolani really did think of everything. 

Though her plan was executed perfectly, it still hurt to say goodbye.

[centeris2]

Slade offers Raven an apprenticeship, Raven loses control of her powers, a mysterious girl called The Shepardess comes to town, and something, or someone, is uniting the Teen Titan's enemies into a dangerous force.

Chapter one:

“I have him,” Raven said, one energy empowered hand extended towards her towering, but still, foe.

“Good work Raven, we’ll be right over,” Robin said, running toward her location and relaying the coordinates to the rest.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Raven,” this came from the now bored appearing man while he studied his wrist guards for scratches.

“And why not, Slade?” she said, glowing eyes narrowing as her obvious distaste grew to just biting back her onslaught.

“It limits the time we have to talk,” with this, Slade relaxed against one of the bar railings on the scaffold.

“Why would I want to talk with you?” Raven might as well have grown a forked tongue her voice was so venomous.

“I have a proposition for you my dear,” his response was unchanged, lazily relaxed.

She raised an eyebrow in response.

“I am thinking of acquiring a new apprentice. The last few have been rather disappointing as you might have noticed,” he continued after a pause, straightening up a bit as if he was suddenly becoming more professional and business like.

“There is no way I’m going to be employed as your newest puppet,” there was a moment of shock before Raven was able to scoff her retort.

“You would come on your own free will,” he offered her, as if she was already showing interest.

“With only a side dish of black mail I’m sure,” by now Raven was being sarcastic, trying to buy the rest of them time to get there.

He chuckled, “without the side dish, of course.”

“No,” it was simple but firm.

“You are special, Raven, you deserve to have the teaching you need,” he took a step forward, hand beginning to be outstretched to her.

“I can train without you,” she stepped back, her guard nearly down. Her purple eyes were now visible, but her hands still glowed.

“But you will only benefit your powers, you must expand your physical strength in order to truly extend you mental powers,” Slade took back his hand realizing she would not take it now.

“As stated, I can train without you,” Raven’s eyes glowed once more as she brought her guard back up.

“You’re different from the rest of them, do you honestly think that if Starfire was Trigon’s daughter she would have been able to stop him?” Slade was still off guard, showing no interest in fighting anymore.

“Not really,” she confided. Starfire was strong, but emotionally handling it might have been difficult. Raven had surprised herself in that battle, she didn’t know if anyone else could have managed the same.

“You truly could be the leader, but Robin is still in control, and he is not doing the greatest job either,” he began to examine her teammates out loud, almost musing each candidate over in his mind and letting her hear his thoughts.

“That is only your point of view,” the empath defended, but was curious about what he was doing this for, his actions always had a purpose. What the point behind this?

“Beast Boy is irresponsible, and still cares about Terra,” Raven’s curiosity continued to be piqued by his words, how Slade knew the truth, why he was saying it out loud to her.

“That’s true,” Beast Boy hid it well, but when he was alone he thought of her. Raven had picked up strong emotions from him when his mind wandered and she was close.

“And Cyborg can be turned off like a loud, annoying TV.”

“Not quite,” Slade’s generalization of Cyborg bothered Raven, she did not like when people viewed him as a computer with an expressive face and not as a human.

“First, I thought I would go with the leader of the group,” he continued with his analysis and explanation of past apprentices.

“That failed miserably,” Raven kept him going, wondering where he was going with this and when the other Titans would arrive to help her capture Slade.

“Yes, then I went with who I thought had the most power,” he emphasized the word ‘thought,’ possibly the closest she had ever heard him admit he was wrong about something.

“Also failing horridly,” though not at first, Terra had been effective until she realized and regretted what she had done and turned on Slade.

“But Terra’s apprenticeship did prove useful,” well, it was nice Slade was able to see the bright side in every situation.

“It led you to me?” she played along as well as tried to satisfy her own curiosity by indulging him and guessing what he was leading up to.

“Yes. You have the power, the mental ability, inner strength...” his flattery had no good effect on her, instead causing her to scowl and say in an imitating voice:

“ ‘It’s always the quiet one, isn’t it?’ ”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” it sounded like he was smirking, and she was sure under the mask he was grinning at her.

Raven glared at him suspiciously.

“And now I make my leave, I’ll call you,” he jumped up onto a platform that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Hey!” she jumped up after him, right into a trap. A few well-placed bombs threw her to the opposite wall, as Robin came rushing in, his Hate-Slade-Rush driving him to where Slade had disappeared.

“You let him get away!” Robin shouted at Raven.

Raven wiped the blood from her nose as she stood up and dusted herself off. An enraged Robin was approaching Raven when she swept Robin to the side with her body and magic. Robin looked shocked at the platform; a lone Slade Bot was there, aiming at Robin. Robin was about to attack when several more Slade Bots attacked the shooting one, dragging it through a hidden entrance. Robin turned his attention back on Raven. She was standing, holding her arm as blood seeped through her fingers. She closed her eyes letting her energy close the clean cut. A moment later, she removed her hand and inspected the smooth skin where the bullet had grazed her. She flicked the blood from her hand as the rest of the Titans ran into the room.

“Slade got away from me,” Raven simply stated before walking from the room. Robin sighed before following, the rest falling behind.

As soon as the Teens got back to the Tower Raven went to the roof to catch the last of the sun while meditating. They could tell she wanted to be alone for a while so they let her be, but they hoped she and Robin wouldn’t drag whatever it was on. Raven began her normal chant, letting the last of the sun’s rays warm her. She let her body rebuild its energy, slowly floating up and down. Her brow creased as a strange feeling crept over her, starting deep inside and creeping through her, not so much expanding as winding its way to the surface. Trying to identify it her mind touched it, trying to examine it and slow its progress through the levels of her psyche. It evaded her and there was a harsh crackle. Her eyes opened when the black energy sparked around her, flaring and disappearing as the feeling snaked away.

Raven was distinctly aware that she was shaking, looking down at her hands she saw them trembling before she forced them to be still. Boots touched the floor and she walked over to the edge of the rooftop and looked at the horizon. The sun had nearly set, painting the sky in a rainbow of colors as twilight fell around her. She cleared her mind, banishing all thoughts before she tried to figure out what just happened.

A presence entered her mind, not deep down like the previous feeling, and definitely not one of Raven’s inner entities. Feeling the presence, curious what it was and how it had entered, Raven allowed it to stay without attacking it yet. The presence was calm and peaceful, soothing Raven but not making coherent words, instead using feelings to convey a message of nonaggression. Raven reached out mentally, trying to feel out the presence and find its source, but it shrunk away from her mind. When she focused to follow it energy crackled again without control and she ceased immediately.

The feeling was gone. The presence was gone. And for some reason Raven felt utterly and totally alone. Intense despair flooded her before she could stop it, and she retreated to her room to try to gain control of her emotions. They swung wildly, and she covered her mouth to mute the laughter that was followed by screams of terror. She clenched her eyes shut, reigning in her overactive emotions, and after a few minutes was successful. Breathing heavily she fell onto her bed, wiping the tears and beads of sweat from her brow. Calm once more, she was more perplexed than ever.

Four tentative knocks sounded from her door. After a moment Raven got up and answered it, opening the door enough to show half her face and seeing Robin there. He looked ashamed.

“Raven, I know I was a little harsh on you earlier, and, I’m sorry,” Robin began.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she began, stopping, hoping he didn’t notice her voice change.

“Are you crying?” Robin asked quickly.

“I’ll be fine, I just, need to meditate,” she assured him.

“Oh-okay,” he replied, sounding guilty.

Raven shut the door, hand resting on the smooth surface as she thought. What had caused her to lose control of her powers? Even a small loss of control could prove fatal, and what of the strange being in her mind? What was its origin and what did it want? Was it connected to her lack of control? Did it have something to do with Slade? This had happened right after he had spoken to her, perhaps he was the cause somehow. If that was the case, Raven knew she needed to seal off her mind and regain control as quickly as possible to ward against possible attack. She couldn’t lose control of her powers; the consequences could be deadly.

~~~

The next day was slow, there was no trouble in the city and the Titans remained at their home for a day of relaxation. Raven entered the main room, the first time she had come out since the previous night, and the others silently noticed her presence but did not approach. They were not sure if she wanted company or if she would wish to be alone longer. They knew if she stayed in the room after making tea it was safe to talk to her, if she departed once she got what she had come for they would leave her be.

The telepath did indeed make tea, as well as make a light meal while the kettle heated to a boil. She watched the others in the room, Beast Boy and Cyborg playing a game, Starfire looked like she was trying to knit something, Robin was no where to be seen. When the tea was ready she sat down to think as she ate her food, mulling over the past day.

As far as she could tell, her powers were once more under control as well as her emotions, but she was worried, the loss yesterday had caught her completely off guard, she had not felt herself losing control until she did. She was accustomed to feeling it slip away, she was normally aware when she was getting close to losing control. But last night it had just… happened. And there was the matter of the alien presence she had felt; despite her efforts to find it and reconnect to learn about it she was unable to sense it any longer.

Raven was interested to know who had reached out to her mind, and why. It had not been a hostile touch, but it had retreated when she had tried to find the source, so it did not want to be known. Raven did not encounter other telepaths often, especially empathic ones. While telepathy tended to be more difficult it was more common, ironically. But communicating strictly through emotions was difficult, especially over distance. Telepathy was much easier to perform over long distances, only a very powerful empath would be able to communicate over such a long distance with a mind it had never encountered before. Raven considered another possibility, perhaps the mysterious empath was close. Very close. Or a transmitter, amplifier, of some sort. She would have to look into that in order to find out who, or what, the strange presence was.