#because Bat ain't moving otherwise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

villainsimpqueen · 10 months ago

Text

Eternal Bloodlines

Adriana tepes/ Alucard x Male Dhampire reader

This fanfic is for 18+ Audience's due to it containing gorey themes and later on smut.

Also available on A03

chpater 8

Generals bickered back and forth, hissing and biting at each other's throats.

Rams bucking their heads

Godbrand thought as he sat at a table and chair watching and drinking blood from a cup way too small for his liking.

pigs blood.

It made him grimace with each sip he took, it was far too cold, too stale and it tasted like shit.

The king himself sat on his throne doing nothing as the generals all scabbled at each other and his two human forge masters stood at his side.

Godbrand never thought he would see a king as powerful and mighty as Dracula sulk, look so much more dead than he already was.

It wasn't long until his majesty's doors were being slammed open causing Godbrands eyes along with other generals human and vampire to follow the noise.

A woman, a countess, with blonde hair as white as snow itself wearing a dress that rivaled blood's darkest of hues.

The Queen of Styria, Camilla.

And it wasn't just great entrances she was good at, no within minutes she had the scabbling silence by her questions towards the king.

Women have balls. I'll give her that.

Godbrand watches how quickly she had infuriated Dracula and was even more impressed when she had returned to the council still alive after the King called her away for a talk. He watched her speak towards the other women of the council making alliances, how she talked to the men with disgust clear in her eyes and yet something he's seen in so many eyes before.

hunting, scheming.

She wasn't here for the king's goals, that was apparent to him, clear as water. She came to do her own goals and was simply using the council to her advantage. It wasn't a surprise to him when she had come to him after so many had left the room and sat across from him staring at him as she leaned her chin on the palm of her hands.

"And you must be Godbrand." She hummed out her voice trying to conceive the smoothness of honey but he had honey before, he's heard of a woman singing its thick soothing liquid to his own hellspawn to know that the Ice queen's voice was nothing like honey. It was like Tar.

"Lose the tone. I ain't as easy going as the others." He grunted out, setting the too small of a cup down which had been refilled with pigs blood. Gods he needed fresh warm human blood and soon if he was going to be able to keep up with the shit going on in the castle.

This is why I stay overseas.

Though it was amusing watching The Ice queen blink a few times her face contorting to the disgust she didn't bother hiding and into some form of impressive notion as she moved back to sit in her own chair more taller.

"My, the rumors about you say otherwise." She quipped and he chuckled.

"That's just it then ya? Rumors. None of these fuckers really know what i do besides their talk and the jokes I allow them to speak about." He stared at her taking in her appearance more, she had beauty he could easily allow her to have, but beauty didn't hide the fact that he could tell she was bat shit crazy. He watched as Camilla's lips tug into a smirk as she looked at him, a huntress looking at someone she wanted as prey but had only found another hunter instead.

"Well then, Do tell me who you are yourself, Godbrand." She asked him, finally seeming to want to know more than just rumors. He will allow it and he answered whatever questions that came to her mind.

They sat there in the enmity council room talking and drinking from those tiny cups for hours. She was scheming something, that he knew and what she wanted with him, he would find out soon enough he gathered, but for now he would entertain her and enjoy some friendly company. One he would turn down if she tried bringing him to her chambers. It wasnt because he doesnt want to fuck her, because he would, he wouldn't even have second thoughts. But he knew a woman as fucking crazy to quesion the King of vampires and live? Wasn't a woman he exactly wanted to have laying on a bed before him, with his face between her legs before his body is without getting to know exactly how crazy the bitch was.

That, and he could swear that she would have teeth down there too.

He had thought after this talk she would be bored of him and focus on the other generals and try getting them to partake in what she wants, but to his surprise after each meeting she would stay sat at the table as the room empty until it was just him and her and they would talk. Sometimes it was to go over everything and then make fun of the other generals or her further explaining her plans and scowling about how the others had their heads too far up their asses to see.

He sometimes would point out mistakes in her little schemes.

"Braila would be smart." He spoke up after listening to her squeal about some sort of organized attack.

"Braila?" She questioned looking from her parchment of maps to look at him. "That city has a river to the sea, yes?"

Godbrand nodded and when he saw her questioning he chuckled.

"River leads to the sea, Sea leads to escape and freedom. Take the river, block the sea and no one can come in." He spoke before pointing down on the map moving his claw towards the sea.

"Or out. It is how my men take small villages by surprise. We take the rivers and invade. Men stay back by the ships so when the livestock comes rushing to their small boats they are slaughtered while the others take the village. "

He watched as her eyes focused on the map a few moments of silence before her lips turned into a smirk as she let out a hum.

"Perhaps They should ask you to speak up more in those meetings. They'd be surprised to know how wise you are." She hummed out towards him, she had let go of the need to use that fake honey like tar tone with him.

"I rather not, let them think of me as they do now. Don't want the responsibility." He huffs out before crossing his arms

"So you want them to think of you as the arrogant big headed vikings who doesnt wash his ass and fucks everything that moves?" She asks with a tilt of her head.

"I have you know, i Bathe nightly, Us vikings clean ourselves, though i can't say the same for a few other generals.." He quipped back with a chuckle of his own and it had earned a few laughs from the Ice queen as well.

"Well you do certainly smell better than a few."

Talks like these were good, he enjoyed them and it took his mind off of other things.

Like the thoughts of how his only child, his cold son was doing. He wondered if you were faring well out there, how you were taking things to a different site than he was seeing. He wonders if you had grown some more with new experiences he couldn't teach you.

"You should bring it up at the next meeting, Help me instill the need to attack there." She told him, encouraged him but he shook his head.

"I will go against it." He started watching as she immediately questioned him in her eyes.

"They see me as unwise, young and stupid as if I am not already a few centuries old, yes maybe not as bold as them but still they see me as nothing but as a lad as they do you a lass. So I will act like a lad to make them feel smarter but you, do not act like a lass to them. be a woman who does not give. Make them use their heads, use the humans, Dracula takes their words over ours." He explained to her watching her scheming eyes take what he says in.

"I see, Have us the youngest besides The king's pets bicker and belittle another and get the pets to join in so we get what we want." She hummed out before grinning at him.

"For a man who thinks with just the head of his dick, I think they got the wrong head."

And he laughed.

"I still rather think with my dick."

Another meeting had brought news and more fighting against the generals and forgemasters.

Camilla brought up the need for Braila and he questioned it, making her explain everything to the generals.

"Any City built over running water is a place that we, As vampires, should approach carefully. '' Dracula responded for the first time during the entire war council meeting. Godbrand ignored the look that Camilla had simply glanced his way as he was more focused on the two Forgdemasters whose attention was captured in the subject.

"Running water? I've never heard of it affecting vampires." Issac spoke with his accent, a genuine curiosity in his voice as he spoke. Yet it was all working in their favor, just as he said it would.

"Death by running water hasn't happened in many centuries." Godbrand spoke loudly with his arms crossed towards the forgemaster. He said his words in a more boasting way knowing he had their eyes on him.

"Why not?" Hector asked, Their interests in vampire knowledge always continues to grow, had their lord simply given them the knowledge before having them as part of the council it wouldn't have been so easy to use their curiosity to lead discussions to topics they wanted.

"Look around! We moved into the middle of countries." He made sure to state it as if he was talking down to them, watching how Hector's eyes narrowed, unpleased.

"I'd been told that vampires couldn't cross running water." He stated in a way as to prove him wrong, that he did have some knowledge of the subject. Godbrand didnt care if Hector really had or if he was simply saying it to make himself look bigger than he was, or if it was to impress the other human in the room.

"I've been on boats, I've had baths." Godbrand said as if to make Hector look dumb, he shot a glance back at Camilla. You seemed to cover her mouth with the back of her hand in her other hand, one of those small chalice cups. He knew she was bringing back an amused smirk on her lips as he gave her a look that simply ment see?.

"When?" Isaac Questioned him and Godbrand couldn't help sending the human a glare, He was getting tired of the jokes about his hygiene, though he supposed that is what happens when you allow a room full of fucking vampire do nothing but talk shit about you and come up with many things.

One time a rumor went around about him fucking horses, he wasnt even sure how that happened since he hardly ever came to the meetings but it was some story that he didnt even know about himself.

He kept playing dumb, allowing Camilla the chance to speak up, to play along and insult him and talk down on him like the others do. To push herself up on a pedestal above him to get the other vampire's approval and the humans to side with her, and it was working. Soon the King rose shouting at them to silence them and Godbrand watched Camilla move to Hector to speak to him quietly.

The meeting continued with Issac questioning Brailas importance over Arges and continued about Arges being a better city. Without a second after Issac had finished it was Hector who spoke disagreeing with him. Camillas' eyes catched His and he watched as she smirked some as Hector was leaning more towards an attack on Braila.

Which brought the king's interest back to the subject taking in the words just like how Godbrand had observed him do over the meetings before Camilla joined.

Issac began to speak once more and he brought news forwards, news Godbrand wasn't expecting.

News of the King's missing son who he had injured badly.

News of Belmont being in the same place as Alucard.

"A Belmont? I thought they were extinct." Camilla questioned but Godbrand barely heard her with his thoughts creeping back.

Vampire hunters.

His mind immediately went towards his son, the thoughts of how you were doing, faring came back to him.

Were you alive?

He shook his head, You were his son. Named in the revenge of blood, He had watched you take down grown vampires centuries older than you filled with your rage and blood lust. Burn down villages as you ripped humans piece by piece.

He shouldn't have to worry about a vampire hunter taking your life.

But he did.

You were his only son.

"No. We Believe our Lord's son Alucard and Belmont may have worked together to repel our forces at Gresit." Isaac informed not only Camilla but to the entire council.

By the gods, Boy don't be involved

" If there is a Belmont left alive then should we not observe the ancestral Belmont home?" Camilla questioned snapping at the council with her question.

Godbrand didn't like his choices of sending you to travel, he hadn't expected for a vampire hunter to be alive since their disappearance so many years ago. He didn't have a way to hear from you and he wouldn't dare bring up your existence to a council of vampires.

"Why." He spoke, mostly towards himself lost in his thoughts. Surely you wouldn't be near a vampire hunter, you wouldn't be anywhere near the king's son. That was impossible...Yet he had once thought fathering a hellspawn would be impossible. A hellspawn that was born wrong surviving was impossible, That hellspawn being able to swim in running water was impossible.

You tended to have a trend at doing things he had thought was impossible.

" Perhaps on the general notion that the Belmont hunted the likes of us for fucking centuries and if there is one left alive then it may have access to the trove of weapons and magical materials talked of across generations but never found which they used to hunt us through fucking centuries." Camilla snapped suddenly in front of him, her hand coming to his chest to point a claw into his chest as she snarled at him. Perhaps she saw the confusion or daze of lost thoughts in his eyes because she lightened the pressure on his chest and moved her claw away.

Her tone slightly softened as she must've seen that he wasn't playing along at playing the idiot that something had been on his mind that took him from the conversation.

"Am i making myself clear now?" She spoke before pulling from him using his genuine confusion to her advantage addressing the king.

"This is your war council my lord?"

It caused the kind to stand glaring down at all of them, as if daring another to speak. His eyes glowing that dark blood red.

"If you truly fear my son's presence and that of a lowly human, have them killed." Dracula snapped with a wave of his hand before he started to head away.

"I've had enough of children bickering."

The council spoke bickering as he left but Godbrands eyes could not leave the stairs of the throne room where Dracula had left.

have them killed?

Has his own son been killed?

A bitter taste formed on his tongue, moving towards his fangs as he snarled biting his licks back exposing them.

The great king who he had respected..Whose solution about his only child was to kill him for some war?

The son that He and His human wife struggled for years to have?

Was the boy a novelty then? A toy for his wife to have something to tend to besides him?

Was giving the half bred son the title, Prince of vampires, simply something to flatter his human wife?

Perhaps his anger had grown more than he had thought as he stormed out of the throne room and into one of the many halls of the castle. Godbrand had sent his own son to travel, away from the war, in some way to honor his mother and see her world before the King had destroyed it. To protect him in the only way he knew how, and The king had no quells in murdering his own son for a war over a human pet wife?

It was dishonor, Not to his own fucking son but to the woman who spent years trying over and over again to give him a hellspawn of his own.

A father is to protect his fucking kin not kill them.

How could someone as ancient and wise as the Old man be so completely stupid? How could He? Godbrand, know that more than the king?

Godbrand heard the clicking of heels and he knew who it was, but his own rage didn't care for his words.

"Im not in the mood to try to fuck you Camilla i have my own shit right now." He snarled as he stormed through the halls, He didn't get too far before he was slammed into the ground, her weight on his back as he snarled more.

"I wouldnt fuck you if you were the last thing alive." Her icey words chilled over his backside.

"Explain why you stormed off."

Godbrand snarled, the crazy bitch had pinned his arms to his side as well so moving wasn't an option, and he was a vampire that was gifted with ability to turn into mist or shape shift either so all he could do is lay there face first into the floor and snarl like a rabid dog.

"Kill the son His Wife had worked so hard to fucking have, Thats what he wanted." Godbrand snarled.

"Well…The Child was a half breed."

Half breed.

Like you.

Half breed.

" I don't see how that would anger you…"

"Cause you dont know how fucking hard it is for a woman to fucking birth a living son like that!" Godbrand snapped squirming underneath her.

"You dont fucking know how many tries ir takes to even get past a few months. How many wrong borns a woman goes through just to get a son born right and alive."

He was seething,

His mind moved back to the many miscarriages and wrong births of his own offspring that his little mother tried so hard to birth.

He wondered how many the king's human wife had to see, had to push out, had screamed and cried for, and The king waved his hand uncaringly with the words kill them.

How those words in his mind changed to

Kill you.

"And you do?" Her words cold as winter snow falling came down, there was curiosity at her tone. Godbrand felt himself stiffen as a corpse before snarling swears in his motherland's language quietly.

"...You do." Her words changed and before he knew it he was on his back with her straddling her hips staring down at him claws on his shoulders raking over them.

"Godbrand…Do you have a half breed bastard?" She questioned him, her eyes unmoving from his own. He snarled, moving his arms to shove her off of him.

"He's not a bastard. He is my son." Godbrand snarled at her baring his fangs.

"And hes more of a vampire than half of those fuckers in there will ever be."

Camilla to her grace was able to land on her feet pushing herself to stand tall as she looked down at the man on the floor. She could see so many things move through his eyes and it intrigued her.

"Tell me about him, your son." She demanded him softly and watched as his eyes moved to the hall behind her.

"Let us go for a walk on the grounds, yes?"

And it delighted her to watch him push himself off the ground and follow her away from the castle to the surrounding woods walking on a path paved by livestocks carts over the years. She listened to what he had to say and he told her everything.

"The last wrong born before my son, I went to my little mother, she always sulked in her furrs after a wrong birth. It was the first time I ever went and saw her after a wrong birth." Godbran explains listening to the bristled sound Camilla let out between her lips.

"It's tradition." He started glancing over at her, catching her eyes.

"We let the women grieve for what could have been alone, So that they may hear the mother goddesses whisper their advice and Condolences. It's disrespectful for a man to stay with a woman during such things. Only women are allowed to enter a weeping mothers hut and soothe her." He watched as Camilla's eyes ever so slightly softened.

"So why did you break your own tradition?" She asked curtly and Godbrand looked away and to the moonlit trails in front of them.

"I was going to tell her that I had prepared a ship for her to leave."

"You were letting her go?" Camilla turned towards him, stopping in their midnight stroll and He refused to turn to look at her.

"She tried to bear a child for nearly ten years, Camilla. She mourned every single one of them as if they were more than just her freedom. " He spoke softly, crossing his arms.

"Each time she blamed herself.

'I wasn't eating enough, forgive me, I'll eat more next time.'

'I slept the wrong way, I will sleep differently next time.'

'I moved too little, I will move more next time.'

'I moved too much, I will move slower next time.'

'I washed in the river, I will wash in the sea.'

Every time a wrong was born she took the blame. Blaming herself as if the real issue wasn't me." He turned to look at her finally.

"I went into her hut, and when she saw me she spoke of how i came around her sooner this time, and she told me she will do better,..…I told her her womb was not the wronging in all the wrong borns, it was my dead seed that killed them from the very start…and told her that i had a ship ready for her, that she would be safely taken to lands where vampires were not as frequent and she still had a fair face enough to find a husband.." Godbrand shook his head at the memories.

"She refused."

"She refused?" Camilla asked with a tilt of her head, her eyes piercing his own.

"She refused. She got angry at me actually, stormed to me and demanded I strip from my clothes and fill her once again. She had looked into my eyes with the eyes of a predator unlike when I had found her huddled up like some rabbit, fearful and weak. She then said;

'I will bear you a son, Stronger than any man in your bloodline, and he will either bathe in red darker than the blood of the people slaughtered in my village, or he will bathe in gold brighter than the sun which you will never see.'

And shortly after that night her womb was full again with my son. She had me fuck her every night she said it was for his soul to be stronger than the others. When her waters broke i waited by her huts door, The nursing women refused me to enter..I had wanted to see him born..But in the end He was born wrong like all the others. I heard her screams before I heard the head healing woman head towards the huts door. She screamed and cried like all the times before but this time in a language I didn't know, her homeland I suppose. I took my boy to the cliffs like I did with all the others for the sea to take.

I was so Angry Camilla, She tried so hard and once again it was a bloody wrong born…But before i could drop him the winds settled and it was like the sea calmed and i heard him…My son fighting to live and when i cut the cord around his neck from his own wrong birthing he screamed louder than anything i had ever heard before..My son stronger than the other wrong borns, Almost seemed like he wasn't ever born wrong…"

Godbrand clenched his hands as he remembered your birth, and he continued telling Camilla everything about you. How you grew rapidly, how the sun never affected you.

"He can go into running water, and leave it with barely a rash."

Camilla's eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

"Your half breed son can move through running water? Not even Dracula's son has such abilities."

Godbrand nodded as he began to walk down the trails with her once more.

"Aye, I've seen him do it many times. His mother used to wash clothes in the river, he would play by her side. I've seen him fly overboard on one of the ships during a territory battle, he climbed back up the side with a fury, his skin not even Blisters."

"Is that why you kept him hidden?" Camilla's words hit his ears making him glance over at her again.

"No, I kept him hidden because he would be looked down upon, the others would treat him less than the man i raised him to be…At first.." Godbrand steeled his eyes onto the path and he continued to walk.

"At first?" The Vampiresses questioned him, following his lead through the wind blowing trees.

"...He's a Crusnik, Camilla…" Godbrand breathed out before stopping once more.

"He's eaten another…"

"Yes…"

"When..?"

Godbrand looked at her, his face contorting in…was it? Anger? Sadness?

"The night his mother was taken from him. A neighboring clan member took her life in front of him. Before I could even react I watched my son tear through him and twelve other grown men over centuries of his own age. My clan and I watched as he devoured each one of their blood before tearing through them with an ace before they moved to fight against the other clan themselves for angering my son.."

The blade of your Ax tore through limbs causing rotting blood to splatter your face. It was foul as the smell of the rotting corpse of the night creature as you shoved its slicing body away from you, splitting it entirely as you moved to the next.

"You wouldn't have believed it unless you saw it with your own two eyes."

Flames shot from your side scratching the dirt and cracked cobblestone walkways. A whip cracking to your left and you could hear the wishful gliding of a magic sword moving through the air before slicing amongst flesh.

They were inexperienced to hell and back, and yet they all agreed to stay here.

"It's so much more different than bloodlust Camilla…Is power, raw uncontrollable power."

Villagers screamed as they tried running from the night creatures, forcing you to watch your own blade carefully as you swung it through body masses of tendons and flesh. You felt someone stumble into your side and you hissed at them to back away, you felt a hand slide across your back and the wailing on an infant.

"So yes, I kept my son hidden, I focused on him training that power and controlling it himself."

The damn fools were piling behind you and the other three, covering themselves between buildings with nowhere to go.

Only you four in front of them keeping the Demons away from tearing into their flesh. You heard shouting from your right where Sypha was speaking about something. You couldn't focus over the smell of spilling blood rotten and fresh over taking your senses.

You faintly felt a stinging from your chest as you moved a hand across it to feel the gaping wound sliced into it from a night creature's claw.

"How could I bring my only blood, my only son, near a den of Vampires that would only see him as a threat?"

Starving.

You were starving.

When was the last time you ate?

Three weeks ago now? Or was it four?

animal blood wasn't cutting it.

You needed real blood.

"You think they would have let him be alive if they knew he could eat more than just livestock, Camilla?"

Yet as you focused back on the creeping creatures that neared you and your small group. You could feel their eyes on you.

Alucard's, Trevor's more than anything as if they were waiting for you to turn around and attack the livestock that had run into a corner believing that you would protect them.

"...No..They would have staked him to a pillar faster than the church with a witch." Camilla answered him.

"Aye…So I kept him away from the meetings. I sent him to travel to explore and learn more about himself, about what he is…And if something were to happen to me, I'd die knowing that my son is more of a Vampire than any one of those bastards back there."

If Sypha had not stated that you all were going to help them rid of the night creatures that hunted on this little village you wouldn't have bothered helping them. You wouldn't have probably even been near this little village. Perhaps you would have been in a city.

"...If something ever did happen to you, Godbrand, I'd look after your son. I'd treat him as if he was one of my own sisters."

"...I take it that's a lot coming from you?"

Regardless of the burning sensation you felt in your teeth to tear through the nearest livestock near you, you gripped your ax and lunged forwards towards a demon.

Your cold lifeless blood pumping through your limbs as you ripped the blade into a night creature's shoulder, getting it lodged into the bone as you yanked it closer to you.

Your blood, Teeth, and primal instincts know more than them.

It didn't have to be human for you to feed.

"You don't have to take it as anything, Just know you have my word Godbrand."

chp 9

#castlevania x reader #castlevania fanfiction #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #alucard x reader #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #18+ fanfic

17 notes · View notes

hard-boiled-criminal · 11 months ago

Text

A Witch Adrift

Chapter 3 - Food Before Fools

< Ch 2 | Ch 4 >

>Ch 1<

Masterlist

Ao3 Mirror

“Gwah! It’s pouring out there!”

You turned to see the same cat from earlier, sopping wet but its ear flames still burning strong. You barely had a chance to react before the cat shook itself dry, splashing a good amount of water on your face, as well as your clothes. Using one of your singed bell sleeves, you slowly wiped the water off your face, already exhausted from the long hour you had suffered through. A cackle made you pull your sleeve away, letting you see the cat laughing at you as if you were the best comedian it’d seen in ages.

“Bwahaha! That look on your face is priceless! Like a bat that got blasted by a water gun.”

‘...A what?’

“As if I wouldn't just sneak back onto campus the second I escaped pryin' eyes. You all got no idea what I'm capable of!”

‘No, I think I have a pretty good idea.’

“I ain't givin' up on goin' here just 'cause I got kicked out one measly ol' time. And if you think otherwise, you don't know Grim!”

“So, your name’s Grim, huh?” I guess I should know that with how many times he’s called himself such. “Why are you trying so hard to get into this cul–school?” Because I seriously don’t see the appeal. Though perhaps I’m just biased considering I was kidnapped, almost killed, and then placed in a sorry excuse for a dorm.’

“I was born to do this! I'm a magical prodigy who's got the makin's to become one of the greatest mages who ever lived! So I've been waitin' and waitin' for that black carriage to come for me. And yet…” He sniffled a little, as if trying to hold in tears.

‘Well now I feel a little bad for him. He looks like a kid that dropped their ice cream.’

“Hrmph! That Dark Mirror's got no eye for talent!” He schooled his expression fairly quickly. “That's why I took the initiative and came here myself. You humans don't understand what a mistake you're makin'! Not lettin' me in is a great loss to the world!”

“Well, I have to agree with you on the Dark Mirror part. After All, it decided to kidnap me, and I can’t do any of that flash-bang-boom magic you’ve been throwin’ around.” ‘But I can do other magick… I wonder if they have my kind of magick here… I’ll have to do some research later…’

“Wha? You can’t use magic? Pfft! You’re useless–MRRAO!” Grim shrieked some water dripped on him, a quiet hiss sounding as his ear flames instantly evaporated it. “Mrrao! C'mon, scoot over! I'm getting dripped on here!” He moved out of the way, but it was no use as another drop hit him from a different leak. “Bwah! Another hole in the roof! These flamin' ears are like my trademark, y'know? I can't let 'em get doused!”

‘Instant karma, bitch. That’s what you get for being rude.’ You sighed, “I guess I’ll go looking for some buckets.”

“I dunno why you don't just magic those holes away. You could have it fixed in half a jiff.

Ahhh, right. You can't use magic at all.”

‘You know what? I take back what I said about feeling bad for him.’

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t make things go boom, I get it. If you’ve got such a problem with the leak, why don’t you fix it yourself, you knock-off Pokémon?” You said over your shoulder as you walked to the door to collect one of the bowls from outside.

“Heh? You want me to help you? Ha! You got the wrong idea. I'm just a stranger takin' shelter from the rain. You ain't the boss of me. And what’s a Pokémon? If it’s something that helps humans, then I definitely ain’t one of them. I don't work for free.”

“How about you help me and I won't kick you out, hmm? How does that sound for compensation?” This cat was quickly getting on your nerves.

Grim didn’t give you a chance to act on your threat, dashing underneath the couch by the stairs. “Y-you can’t threaten me, human!”

You sighed, not about to deal with pulling a cat out from hiding, especially not a magic cat. “Alright, well, don’t blame me if there’s deadly mold under there,” you said, hearing a little yelp under the couch, followed by the scrambling of paws. You smirked to yourself, “I’m off to go find some pots or buckets.”

You peered into a nearby hallway, feeling anxiety returning to you as you stared down the long, dark corridor. ‘This feels like a horror game, and I hate it.’ You tentatively took one step forward and then another, the rotting floorboards creaking with even the slightest amount of weight pressing down on them. You made it about five slow steps in before you felt the temperature of the room suddenly drop.

‘I just had an interesting thought: Actually, fuck this.’ You spun on your heel with false bravado, your entire body now tense. As you stiffly walked back towards the lounge, you froze in place as you felt the familiar tingle of eyes watching you. ‘Okay. Don’t look back. Just… Just keep walking. If you look back, you’ll die, according to horror movies. Put one foot in front of the other.’

It turns out it didn’t matter if you looked back or not because three ghosts suddenly appeared in front of you. They… didn’t look how you’d expect ghosts to look like. These ones looked more… cartoonish. They weren’t half as scary-looking as some of the monsters you’d seen in Scooby-Doo.

‘Ghosts huh. Surprised I can see them. Or maybe that’s normal here.’

“Yee hee hee... Bwa ha ha ha ha ha,” One of the ghosts attempted to laugh menacingly.

“We haven't had visitors in ages!”

“Oh, I'm just itchin' for new friends! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Hey, Grim?! Is it normal to see ghosts?!” You shouted, temporarily ignoring the ghosts.

‘I need to know if this is normal or if I’m just hallucinating from stress.’

You hear the small pitter-patter of tiny footsteps against the damp floor. “Hah? Ghosts? What are ya talking’ about, dumb hum–AAAAAH! GHOSTS! GHOOOOOOSTS!” Grim screamed in fright after he turned the corner.

‘Guess I’m not crazy then… Should I be scared?’

“All the people who used ta live here got scared of us and ran away.”

“We just want a new ghost to play with! What do you say, buddy?”

“Eeeeep!” Grim shrieked, terrified of the cartoonish ghosts.

“Uh-huh… Yeah, no, I’ll have to pass on that.” ‘Plus, last I checked, ghosts can’t kill you. Unless they can use magic. I hope they can’t use magic when they’re dead.’

“I'm a master sorcerer! I ain't afraid of any dumb ghosts! Myahaaa!” With his eyes closed, Grim shot a stream of flames up in the air, narrowly missing your head while completely missing all of the ghosts.

“Wah–Grim! Careful!”

“Nuh-uh. Not even close.”

“Over here! Over here! Ah ha ha ha!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault they keep disappearing and reappearing!” Grim shouted at you as the ghosts continued to taunt him as his attacks kept missing.

“Well maybe if you stopped pretending to be blind and kept your eyes open, you wouldn’t miss!” You shouted back. “Now stop trying to burn the dorm down! Fire isn’t super-effective on ghosts in the first place! Don’t you have any other magic?”

“Shaddup! I don't need any lip from you, human!”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this. If you burn the building down you’ll never be allowed to even go near this school, you know? And maybe if you get rid of the ghosts the headmage will let you enroll for your grand achievements, hmm?”

“Myah...?! Hmph, then what am I supposed to do, huh, human? If I don’t blast them, they won’t leave us alone! Not like you can do anything; You’re magicless!”

“Here, I’ll aim you so,” You picked him up and he mewled in displeasure. “Fire when I say so!”

“Mrrgh, fine! But only because it’ll show off my greatness! Don’t go thinkin’ it's because of you, human!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s another achievement under your belt, oh great Grim. Now stop talking and fire!”

You spent the next few minutes pointing Grim at ghosts and watching as he burnt them. It was odd to think about holding a living flamethrower in your hands, especially one that would complain between each use. Turns out magic cats can also get dizzy.

“Nice! That actually worked! Hey, human! What should I do next?” Grim turned his head to look at you. “Give 'em the works? Heh! Can do!” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before spewing out more fire. “Myaaah... Eat THIS!”

“Hwaaahhh! We gotta get out of here! Before we get disappeared for good!” The ghosts fled, vanishing into thin air.

“H-huh? Did we... win?”

“Yep, so you can open your eyes now,” you carefully put Grim down on the floor, watching as he struggled for a second to get his balance.

“Aw, geez, I was scared outta my–I mean, they didn't faze me one bit! Just a walk in the park for a mage of my caliber! Whaddaya got to say now, ghosties? That's right!”

‘Well, if nothing else, he definitely has the attitude of a cat.’

Now even more exhausted in every sense of the word and with no buckets in spite of your, admittedly minimal, efforts in searching, you and Grim head back to the lounge. You waste no time collapsing on the couch Grim had hid under earlier, a small cloud of dust erupting from the disturbance.

‘I’d love to sleep in a bed, but I can’t help but think about bed bugs and mold infesting the rooms… I really don’t wanna be here anymore.’

The pleasant quietness of the room, save for the comforting pattering of rain, was a nice contrast to the scream-fest Grim had with the ghosts. The silence was regrettably interrupted by Crowley magicing open the door again, the loud squealing of the hinges grating on your ears.

“Good evening. In another gesture of my immense kindness, I have brought you dinner.” In one hand he held a bag and the other he used to close the door and place the coffee table strewn across the room in front of you, right-side-up, all with magic, of course. He placed the bag down on said table and looked up at you, only to see Grim sitting on the couch next to you, “Wait. That's the creature we ejected for causing trouble at orientation! What is it doing here?!”

Grim stood up, placing his paws on his hips. “Takin' care of yer ghost problem, that's what. You're welcome, by the way! Ya better gimme some tuna as a reward!”

Crowley was about to respond, but you quickly butted in, “Mr. Crowley, it’s easier to just go along with him, so please, don’t argue.”

Maybe it was because of how tired and awful you looked, but Crowley heeded your request. “Well, I do seem to recall that this dorm had a mischievous ghost problem. Ah, yes... That's why it was abandoned, in fact. The ghosts scared away all the students. And you're saying that you two joined forces to drive them away?”

‘Ah, I see. You oh so conveniently forgot that this manor was haunted by ghosts. How does somebody just forget that a place is actually haunted?’

Crowley continued to talk as you started to unpack the takeout containers from the bag. Out of the three containers, the round one, typically meant for soups, caught your attention. It smelled absolutely divine.

"’Joined forces’ ain't exactly how I'd describe it. More like I drove 'em away, and the human watched,” Grim bragged.

“Well, someone had to watch and aim for you, seeing as you kept your eyes closed the whole time,” you said with a little sass.

“Would you two be so kind as to demonstrate your ghost-eradication methods for me?”

You gave Crowley an unamused stare, about to open the food containers. ‘Is this some new kind of torture? Bringing me freshly cooked food and then distracting me until it becomes lukewarm and unpleasant?’

“One, no, 'cause I already wiped 'em all out. And two, no, 'cause where's my tuna?!” Well would you look at that. It seems you and Grim agree on something.

“I will play the part of the ghosts. As for the tuna, you'll receive it when you defeat me. Oh, what generosity, Crowley…”

“W-wait, wait a minute–Mr. Crowley, I really don’t think this is a good idea!” You tried to protest. The ghosts were one thing since they couldn’t crash into anything, but having a fight with a physical being in a run-down place like this did not seem like a good idea. This dorm was just waiting for an excuse to collapse.

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine! Now, to chug this transmutation potion!” Disregarding your concerns, Crowley pulled a potion out of nowhere and took no time to uncork and down it.

“Ah, you gotta be kiddin' me,” Grim whined. “I gotta work together with the human again?”

“Grim, please, just put up with it. The sooner we do this, the sooner we get to eat.”

“Hrmph. All right, but this is the last time. And I better be up to my jowls in tuna afterwards!”

You stood up and made a point to walk away from the table with all your food on it, watching as the headmage slowly turned transparent, transforming into a ghost version of himself.

‘So you can just turn into a ghost by drinking something in this world? Hmm, interesting. I mean, there’s no way to do that back on Earth unless you drank…poison…’ You came to a ghastly realization. ‘Did he… did Crowley just kill himself? To become a ghost? What? No, that can’t be; he’s too calm. Also, who’d kill themselves for something as stupid as this? …Well, I suppose I won’t have to worry about him running into anything at least.’

Crowley didn’t wait around before he began his assault, causing you to quickly snatch up Grim to use as a sentient flamethrower once again. Seeing as Crowley was probably much more well-versed in magic, and perhaps combat as well, than the ghosts, the fight was much harder, despite there only being one of him. When seemingly satisfied with what he saw, or maybe the potion’s duration was up, Crowley backed off and transformed back into a corporeal being.

Grim was panting from exertion, tired from the back-to-back battles. “Hah…Well? How was that?”

“Incredible... I've never seen anyone bend a monster to their will quite the way you have,” Crowley said, actually impressed by you but in a positive way.

‘This man’s definitely never played Pokémon. Which’d make sense since it’s another world, but still. What sad lives these people must live. Guess I’ll just have to become a Pokémon trainer and show these magic people what they’re missing out on.’ For the first time since you arrived in this strange world, you felt lighter, hopeful, even. Maybe you could find a whole team of magical monsters; who knows what creatures exist here?

You sat back down on the couch, the food thankfully undisturbed from the fight. Crowley picked up a turned-over rocking chair and placed it on the opposite side of the table from you, taking a seat. Starved, you did not hesitate to grab the spoon from the set of silverware and chopsticks Crowley had brought with him and opened the soup container. A puff of delightful-smelling steam escaped as you opened it; your mouth started to water. It was an opaque, yellow-orange soup with thick noodles. You dipped the spoon into the broth and brought it to your lips. Without bothering to blow on it, you quickly slurped it up, a familiar taste hitting your tongue. Miso.

“I must confess, my educator's intuition did sense something about you after the brouhaha at orientation, (y/n).

‘...Brouhaha? What? What even is that?’

I could tell you had a certain animal trainer-y, beast master-ish quality to you. Oh, yes.

That said, I…” Crowley trailed off, mumbling to himself, coming up with some absurd idea, no doubt.

“A trainer, huh?” You mumbled before putting down your spoon on one of the napkins you pulled out of the bag. “Mr. Crowley, what if… what if I became Grim’s trainer?”

“Oh?” Crowley sounded intrigued.

“Myngyaah?! What are ya talking about, dumb human! I ain’t anybody’s to train, especially not by you!” Grim, on the other hand, was extremely offended.

“Hold on, lemme finish speaking first,” you said to Grim, but it did not placate him in the slightest. “Mr. Crowley, if I became Grim’s trainer, would you let him enroll in the school?”

“WHAT? A monster?! Stay here!?” Crowley’s interest quickly became disbelief.

“Whoa, did you just...?” Grim also looked at you in disbelief, but he looked more so touched by your actions.

“I’m magicless and new to this world. Seeing as there are ghosts, who knows what else there may be. I need someone to help protect myself, assuming you won’t be able to always be around to help me.” ‘Plus, it’s hard to catch pokemon if you don’t have one of your own.’ You grabbed the chopsticks, dipping them into the soup to grab one of the noodles. The udon noodles were just as delicious as the soup. This was the perfect comfort food you needed after today.

“Hmmm... I suppose I cannot deny your plea. Very well,” Crowley agreed, a little reluctant, but unable to refute your reasoning.

“Myah?! Really?”

“Let me be clear!” Crowley didn’t let Grim celebrate too soon. “Under no circumstances would I admit anyone to Night Raven College who has not been selected by the Dark Mirror– especially not a monster!”

‘Is the Dark Mirror really so important that its selection is a criteria considering that it was apparently responsible for summoning me? It also didn’t say I couldn’t be a student. It just said I wasn’t suited for any of the dorms.’

“Nor do I intend to allow you, (y/n), to freeload until you're able to return home.”

‘...Excuse me?’ You stopped eating and sat up straight, giving Crowley a death glare.

“Hrmph. Never shoulda got my hopes up…” Grim grumbled.

“N-Now, allow me to explain,” feeling your intense glare, Crowley backtracked, quickly starting to elaborate. “It was the Dark Mirror that transported you here.Therefore this school does bear some responsibility for your well-being. So I will allow you to remain in this dorm, free of charge. However, you will need to pay for your own food, clothing, and incidentals. As to how you will do so, penniless as you are... Ah. Ah ha. Yes, a fine plan. How about I have you do some odd jobs around campus?”

Crowley was about to keep talking but you cut him off, “I’m sorry, what?”

“W-Well, you see, I can’t just allow a magicless person who is not a student to just stay here, it would–”

“Oh, no, we are not doing this.” Anxiety be damned, you were too tired and fed up with today to stop your words from coming out. “It was your mirror that brought me to your school, of which you are the oh-so-gracious headmage of. As far as I’m concerned, you kidnapped me! So, you are going to take responsibility for your subordinate’s actions.”

“Well, the Dark Mirror is not so much my sub–”

“Shut it and don’t interrupt me.” Crowley closed his mouth real fast. “Now listen here, you ostentatious birdman,” You leaned forward, glaring straight into the yellow pinpricks that you assumed were his eyes. “You ripped me from my home, a world of the mundane with none of this dangerous magic you show off all the time like it’s nothing. What’s more, you’re saying you can’t send me back. You expect me to live in this dilapidated building, which definitely has more than a few health and safety violations, and on top of that, work in order to simply survive? I have nowhere to go. I am stuck here and I know nothing of this world. For all I know, if I even try to leave, there could be some other monster lurking around off campus that’s ready to kill me and have me as its next meal. I don’t think you realize just how terrified I actually am! This situation I’m in, it’s as if I’m stuck in a prison and you’re trying to use me as free labor in exchange for the right to live! If this is a school of magic, that means everyone I may pass by on this campus could kill me with a flick of the wrist, whether on purpose or on accident, and I can do nothing about it!” You sniffled, feeling your nose start to run as tears start to fall from your eyes. Everything has been so overwhelming, and this was the last straw that broke you.

“I’m all alone, Crowley. I have nobody! I have nothing! These clothes aren’t even mine! Don’t you see?! You’re making it so that I have no choice but to listen to you! Because if I don’t, you can rip everything away from me!” You can feel a bubble rising in your chest. You struggle to get your words out as you start to hiccup between them, trying to keep the sobs in. You pause before trying to speak more calmly. “Listen, Crowley… I’d be happy to work for you, truly, but,” you take in a stuttering breath, “I don’t know if I can trust you. Who’s to say you won’t try and extort me? I know nothing about you or this world. I don’t know what’s considered fair or common sense, here. I am completely and utterly alone.” You’ve fully broken down into sobs at this point.

You bury your face into your hands and just cry. Crowley flounders a bit, unsure of how to comfort a person in this situation. It’s not everyday that he has to figure out how to comfort what is essentially an alien. He settles for just placing a hand on your shoulder in comfort, patting you a few times as if to say ‘there there.’ Grim seemed just as, if not more, confused about the situation than Crowley, and opted to just not do anything. It takes a couple minutes to compose yourself, sniffling as you right yourself back up. Crowley slowly removes his hand, his face twisted in a worried frown.

“Sorry, I just–” you sigh, “today has been a lot.” Another sniffle. “At the very least, I need this all to be put in writing in a contract with a separate party as a witness to make sure the conditions are fair.”

Crowley’s face softens at you. “Of course.”

“And, if I could ask, could you please at least supply me with the necessities for the first week? As you said, I have no money, so I have no way to care for myself.”

“Yes…I’m sorry, it seems I failed to comprehend the situation from your point of view.” Crowley’s shoulders slumped a bit out of guilt.

You sniffled again, rubbing the vestiges of tears from your eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Crowley.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect my common sense to apply to you either, what with you being an alien.”

“Oh, yeah… That reminds me of some other concerns I had.” You saw Crowley tense a bit. “But that can wait until tomorrow.” He relaxed again. “For now, can I just ask you to maybe bring me some soap and a change of clothes.

“Oh, um, ahem, yes of course. I’ll bring you some right now,” Crowley moved to stand up, but you stopped him.

“Just– just bring them tomorrow morning. I’m sure we’re both tired after today. We can talk about my other concerns then, yeah?” You gave him a weak smile.

He awkwardly smiled back, “Yes, well then,” he cleared his throat, “I shall see you in the morning.”

Standing up fully, Crowley turned and walked towards the door. He glanced at you over his shoulder once more. You gave him a small wave goodbye. He nodded and opened the door to the main hall, gently closing it behind him. For the first time since you met him, he didn’t use magic to open the door.

A while after Crowley left, you managed to finish off the soup. Your appetite had disappeared after the argument, so you had to force yourself to eat. You had offered Grim some of the food, which he readily accepted, polishing off all the food in one of the containers in a heartbeat, finishing long before you did. You looked at the last full container still on the table, definitely cold by now. You slowly stood up, grabbing the leftovers and started to wander. If you could find a kitchen, there might be a fridge. Luckily, the kitchen was through the door on the wall to the right of the fireplace, so you didn’t have to look around for long. You were worried about there being no electricity to power the fridge, or worse, to find old, rotting food in it. You were surprised, however, to find the fridge running and empty, the chill coming from it hitting your skin when you opened them. The quiet hum of electricity was missing, though, and was strangely off-putting. Perhaps the fridge was magic-powered? Just when you thought you found something familiar, it turned out to be different. You quietly put the food away and walked back into the lounge.

The rain was still going strong, the occasional rumble of thunder resounding in the distance. With a yawn, you considered going upstairs to look for a bedroom that wasn’t falling apart or wet. With how sore your body was, you winced with every step up the stairs. You could hear the light pattering of Grim’s footsteps following you, a yawn leaving his mouth. It took a few doors before you found a room that was in a passable condition. It was in a state of disarray, but the ceiling wasn’t dripping and the windows were intact. It even had a fireplace. The only part that made you uneasy was the obnoxiously large mirror above said fireplace.

‘Hmm… I don’t know if that mask can travel between mirrors to spy on people or not. Plus, mirrors are gateways and this is a magic world, so who knows what sorts of things could come through a mirror of that size… I better take it down sometime.’

Ignoring the mirror for now, you approached the bed and pulled off the covers, lifting then snapping it a couple times to shake all the dust off. Spreading it back over the bed, you did the same with the singular pillow before also placing it back. Sitting down on the bed, you gently took off your shoes and placed them to the side as Grim jumped up and made himself comfortable on the pillow. The only pillow. You gave him a deadpan look.

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused.

You sighed, “Grim, if you really want a pillow, could you please go and grab one from one of the other rooms?” You carefully nudged Grim, trying to gently coax him off your pillow. “I’m too tired to put up with you right now.”

With a grumble, Grim jumped off the pillow and landed on the center of the bed. The wooden bedframe whined before breaking, making Grim yelp as it fell through to the floor. You stared at it for a few seconds but shrugged it off. A bed was a bed. You picked Grim up and placed him on the ground.

“H-Hey! What gives?!” Grim protested as you climbed under the covers and laid your head down on your rightly earned pillow. Seeing as you kept ignoring him, he grumbled before curling up against your side instead, seemingly also too tired to get back up. It didn’t take long for sleep to take you, the sound of rain and thunder lulling you into your dreams with a sense of security. Whether it be false or not, only time would tell.

A/N: If any of this chapter feels vaguely familiar, it’s because I recycled some of the old text into this chapter. Not a lot, but I decided to keep the parts I liked. I’m hoping to give Crowley a deeper character than what we see in the first few parts of the game. He feels super unreliable and if he’s supposed to be handling important documents, then he should be at least a little more reliable. You know, just have him act more like an adult.

Here’s the ramshackle dorm layout I’ll be using and referencing in this fic. Reader’s/MC’s room is 203.

Edited

Next Chapter >

#malleus x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #A Witch Adrift

18 notes · View notes

liviavanrouge · 6 months ago

Text

Rebel to Rookie

Livia: *Stares at the delinquents* You guys really decided to jump me..

Rebel: *Stands among the delinquents, his eyes narrowed*

Livia: Rebel, why'd you do this?

Rebel: Because this isn't right! The Dark Badgers is better than this! They were the Top Gang, with you in command they're useless!

Rebel: I'm bringing them back to their full glory-

Livia: THIS AIN'T HOW YOU DO THAT, REBEL!!

Rebel: *Flinches back*

???: EY EY EY!

Livia: *Smiles and turns her head* Hey boys...

Grizzly: *Walks over, joining Livia with the others* Who said you could jump our leader and escape the karma?

Rebel: She's....SHE'S MAKING YOU GUYS SOFT

Scar: Ehhh!? You little rookie brat!

Livia: Dark Badgers!!!

Dark Badgers: *Moves into formation, their eyes narrowed* YES MA'AM!!!!

Livia: Are we gonna win?

Dark Badgers: MA'AM YES MA'AM!??

Livia: We got each other's backs!?

Dark Badgers: MA'AM YES MA'AM!!!!!

Livia: *Runs forward* THEN LET'S GO!!

Grizzly: *Runs after Livia, the others behind them* YES MA'AM!!!!!

Livia: *Leaps forward, glaring at Drago*

Rebel: *Trembles, watching them all fight alarmed*

Hawk: *Punches an enemy in the stomach, sending then flying to Falcon*

Falcon: *Windmill kicks the enemy down, his eyes narrowed as he shot up tackling another Blue Dragon foe down*

Grizzly: *Rapidly punches the Blue Dragon's Vice Commander* I may hate germs but I'll still beat your ass!!

Hawk: *Leaps off a wall and double kicks two Blue Dragon members down*

Hawk: *Dodges and clocks another foe member in the throat*

Rebel: They're still fighting so well...

???: REBEL!!!!

Rebel: *Flinches, looking over*

Livia: *Walks towards him, punching Blue Dragon members out of her way* Ey, I wanna talk to you one on one!!

Rebel: *Trembles, stepping back as she got closer* She's gonna pummel me...she's gonna-

Livia: *Places a hand on the back of his head and pulls him close* You alright....did they threaten you?

Rebel: H-Huh...

Livia: Listen rookie...You're lucky your family to me otherwise I'd have dropped you right where you stand

Rebel: *Stares, perking up when he noticed her smiling*

Livia: You gonna help us kick butt? If not you can take your leave now and go your own way, I won't force you to stay.......but I hope you do..

Livia: *Turns away, running back into the fight*

Sharp: *Kicks a member down then turns around and grabs another slamming then back first into the concrete ground*

Rebel: *Steps forward, running after Livia, his hair flying back*

Livia: *Grabs a Blue Dragon members jacket and tosses them off Grizzly*

Grizzly: QUEEN CHAOS-

Livia: *Turns sharply finding a baseball bat coming at her* Huh-

Rebel: *Moves in front of Livia, taking the bat to his back*

Livia: Rebel?

Rebel: My name....is Rookie now...

Livia: *Perks up*

Rookie: *Grabs the baseball bat and punches the delinquent right in the nose*

Rookie: MY NAME IS ROOKIE, MEMBER OF THE DARK BADGERS!!!!

Livia: *Stands up* Rookie! Rookie!! ROOKIE!!!

Grizzly: WELCOME ROOKIE!!

Hawk: HEYYYY! WELCOME ROOKIE!!

Falcon: *Cheers, pumping his fist into the air*

Scar: WELCOME KID!!!!

Sharp: YEAH!!!

Rookie: *Stares as everyone cheered, his eyes starting to water*

Livia: *Wraps an arm around him* Cry later, Rookie, we got a fight to finish..

Rookie: Right..

Livia: Are we gonna win

Rookie: Ma'am yes ma'am...

Livia: You gonna fight to the best of your abilities?

Rookie: Ma'am yes ma'am!!

Livia: You gonna join us for lunch after this!??

Rookie: MA'AM YES MA'AM!!!!!!!

Livia: *Grins and nods* Let's kick some Blue Dragon Tail..

Rookie: YEAH!!!

Dark Badgers: *Cheers around them, turning and fighting the Blue Dragon members again*

Rookie: *Runs off to help Radical, his eyes narrowed*

Livia: *Grins, watching Rookie* That's it....Rookie

@queen-of-twisted @yukii0nna @soulfungai

6 notes · View notes

team-heavenly · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter 26 - Part 2

Don't skip the matinée just so you can get to the main course!

🥺️Pwetty pwease with a 🍒 on towp?

EVERYBODY GET HYPED!! 😤

Wait, but we can't all go, right? Who will keep watch over the Guild?

Ah, okay. Just don't expect me to carry your head on a platter after Totodile and/or Tropius f*cks you up 🤷‍♀️

But before we head off for adventure, a juicy tidbit reveals the real members of Team Raiders to us!

Bruh, are you for real 😂

I can't exactly tell who is who until they show up in post (post), so look forward to that later! In the meantime...

Aegis Cave Luxurious Manor, here we come.

...Gee Pineco, ya don't say.

Nah, it just exists to troll everyone into thinking you can go farther when it's actually an impossible puzzle. OF COURSE THERE'S A TRICK TO IT, GOD-

Team Charm and the guildmembers scamper off. But let's check out those odd grooves Beedrill mentioned first.

Teresa: "Oh, okay. I know exactly what to do now." *hovers into the dungeon without any hesitation whatsoever.*

Andrea et al.:

Oh and, incidentally, this area is called The Gigantic... Uhhh, The Gigantic... *squints at the word before googling it*

...This ain't even a place, it's an idea. Wtf.

ANYWAYYY, here's an updated look at the Team! Garchomp, my beloved. Also #girl power.

So this probably goes without saying, but the dungeons and Pokémon* aren't randomized here. Otherwise it would be literally impossible to advance. Finding a random blue gummi who knows where is one thing (and that's already hellish enough). Finding a multitude of Unown Stones? Forget it.

Oooooo lookie lookie, one of the letters we need right off the bat!

*That being said! The moves and abilities of the Unown are totally random, so we still have at least a twist of fun. More on that later.

*Count from Sesame Street Voice* TWOOOOO LETTER I'S, AHAHAHA-

Also this dungeon was completely silent the first time through, but none of the subsequent times for some reason? Wack.

OH, AND BECAUSE ITEMS WEREN'T RANDOMIZED?? TREASURE HUNT GALORE FOR THOSE SO RARELY SEEN COMMON ITEMS LIKE ORAN BERRIES 😭

. Indulge me for a moment here, because I have a relatively new-ish blorbo, but this is the very first thing I thought of:

Sounds like a skill issue, idk.

Alright, you go do that. We'll be right behind you, but first, a message from our sponsors.

#pmd explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon #randomizer #post game #the ladies of charm #chapter 26

2 notes · View notes

oworiio · 3 years ago

Text

sleeping beauty

summary: he just couldn't take looking at you from a distance anymore, finally stealing you all for himself to enjoy.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! extreme dark themes. stalking, yandere, kidnapping, non-con, drugging, groping, virginty loss, vaginal sex, creampie.

characters: haruchiyo sanzu x reader

a/n: i ... i can't stop wanting to destroy this little pink haired freak and corrupt him to a disgusting scum that does all tons of dark things and gets away with it because he's so. pretty. ;_;

He loved you. Or that's what he thinks love is.

Haruchiyo Sanzu, Haru for short, was in love with you. Watching your every move without you even batting an eye. How he got all of your passwords to all of your social media is a secret he doesn't like to tell, 'It's to keep you safe—promise!' He says, wrong.

It's a complete facade.

You're so goddamn adorable.

He can't help himself when he stays up watching your unconscious body sleep, palming his thick cock to your soft snoring. He feels an unbeatable pit of shame and guilty in his stomach from pleasuring himself to a rested girl, but it's you.

He can't help himself when it's you.

Haru doesn't quite remember when you've become everything he's consumed, but he remembers that it's been quite a bit.

1 year, 7 months, 2 weeks and 5 days to be exact. But who's truly counting?

You're such a kind soul, always taunting him with that endearing smile of yours, always offering a hand to him when he's feeling troubled. 'You don't have to wear a mask around me, Haru! Personally, I love your scars.'

How amiable, no one has ever complimented his scars. You make him want to cry, the repeating memory torments his mind— you never seem to give him a break.

He needs to make you his.

——

Fuck. He fucked up big time.

It was only supposed to be a small hangout, another little leap to get close to you. But Haru has grown far too impatient to wait for you to realize how much he loved you. His body tensing up as soon as you're inches radius to him, how can someone so beautiful be so close to someone like him?

The way your body makes him stiffen, blood immediately rushing to his desperate sex.

It all happened so fast, a moment you were conscious and lively, rambling on about your god awful boyfriend. Another second, you were unconscious, stifling a faint moan as you fell under the drugs he so kindly slipped inside of your drink.

You know, you're most beautiful when you're in this comatose state. Eyes shut, mouth faintly breathing in and out, so pretty, so vulnerable.

Just like sleeping beauty.

He couldn't possibly do this job by himself. He couldn't, he'd falter as soon as he attempted to pick you up. That's where his boss, Manjiro, comes in.

Otherwise known as Mikey, Mikey knew everything about you. Learning every little thing as Haru's digressive chats consist of only you.

"So that's the girl?"

"Mhm."

"Hm, 'prettier in real life. That's something." The blonde's comment got him a death glare from his subordinate, "Just- help me take her to the place."

——

It's funny how things like this work, you finally gripped a bit of consciousness— breath hitching almost immediately as your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

You looked around, observing your surroundings, your screams only coming out as a muffle as you find yourself naked in coarse rope restraints with tape wrapped against your mouth.

"Ah, you're finally awake, my love." Sanzu squatted down to your height, "You, 'kay? The ropes ain't too tight?"

You huff as your sobs mix with your smudged mascara, distressed face fills Haruchiyo's with glee, "So, lovely." seeing your newborn state rushes to his head, cock tenting inside of his pants.

He slouches as he brings a hand to remove his mask, "You told me, you loved my scars."

"Do you still think the same?" He asks, grinning with his infamous smile, scars wrinkling with it, abruptly ripping away the tape off your mouth, leaving an awful sting on your lips.

You sob and shout, pleading for help. Your emotional appeals only make him more manic, laughing hysterically— mocking your begs as he screams, "HELP HER! SOMEONE, PLEASE!"

His stomach churning laugh soars, "CRY ALL YOU WANT." He shouts, "No one will hear a goddamn thing."

In the end, you give up, heart dropping to your stomach. No one is here to save you, no one will be here to save you.

“Please, Haru.”

“Shut up.” He crudely cut you off, “I don’t wanna hear your pleas after you’ve been talking non-stop about your boyfriend.”

He sighs, “Look, I don’t wanna hurt you either but, I just- need to do this.” He ends his cryptic way of showing pity towards you, shoving his lanky form on top of you, jagged lips meeting your soft mouth, sucking in every little taste you present— taking in the lasting flavor of your drugged drink.

You taste as angelic as he imagined, but 10 times intense— saliva mixed with faulty drink and your tears taste just like heaven. Savoring the flavor as he moans in between your teeth, tongue sliding in your mouth

It was so clear Haru was a virgin, his eager mouth viciously making a mess. He finally leaves your lips, panting “You’re- you’re my first kiss.” his satisfied smirk curls the edge of his lips. First kiss?

Hearing such words bring you to tears, only broken sobs could be heard— former screams fracturing your vocal cords. How could you have not seen this sooner?

You thought, you really thought he was just being an overly protective, caring friend. Always wondering where you were, gifting you things you had no idea how he knew you wanted, checking up on you, texting and talking to you everyday.

That unshakable feeling of being watched was not your imagination, it was him. Haruchiyo Sanzu, he’s your stalker. You weren’t being paranoid, your gut wasn’t lying, it was true.

It was all true.

“Oh come on, I just stopped your tears and you’re crying for me again?” His sappy tone was so clearly fake, he was loving this. “I’ve only kissed you, I haven’t even gone to your..” his breath hitches as he gulps in dry saliva, “Your beautiful body.”

Your face feels light headed as it fills with disgust. His hands move down to your nude body, palms meeting your waists as he slowly runs it up to cup your perked breasts, spine flattening down to the cold pavement.

“This can’t be real,” you mumbled weakly, voice nearly inaudible. “This has to be some kind of night mare.”

His cold slender fingers find your nipples, pinching the hardening mounds in between digits, “You must be enjoying this aren’t ya’?” He asks with a choked up groan. “No wonder why they’re so hard, don’t tell me you have a crush on me too, [Y/N].”

His words slip right through you, consciousness no longer swallowing anything he throws at you. Your stiffness angers him, one hand removing itself to strike your flushed face, the feeling bringing you back to your sick truth.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

You shake your head, facing away from him, you couldn’t look at him. Fuck him.

But your lack of cooperation only made Sanzu more infuriated, grabbing your chin, swaying your head to face him, forcing you to finally meet eyes with your stalker.

“Finally, pretty girl.” he exhales, sharply thrusting his hips to your bare crotch. “Look at the problem you’ve caused.” Your eyes darted downwards to his bottoms, quickly moving to the bare wall of the building. Disgust.

He chuckled softly, lifting himself off to frantically unzip and shimmy himself off of his restraining pants. “I’m gonna fuck you now, 'kay?” His words come out in a purr, returning back in between your legs, cock twitching as it meets the skin of your pussy.

Fuck, it was happening. It was the end, he was gonna fuck you.

Your eyes filled with emptiness as you awaited your doom, what did you ever do to deserve such a punishment?

Haru eyed your cunt, “Such a pretty pussy.” He cooed, “It’ll look much better with my cock inside of it.”

He gripped his shaft, positioning his dick to what he thought was your entrance, eagerly thrusting just to miss and slick in between your folds, you both hissed in unison. His second attempt ended with the same resolution, this time his tip teasing your clit a bit too much, unwillingly you moaned.

“Oh? Are you enjoying this?”

“No.” You reply to him stoically, that’s the only thing you’ve responded to.

He scoffs, “Keep saying that.”

Finally, the tip of his cock found your entrance due to your body going against your feelings. ‘Wet cunts seem to take cock much easier.’ he thought. You cried as he slowly shoved himself farther into you, fat tears threatening to trickle down your cheek. Christ, he was so big.

“Fuck- you’re tight.” He remarks with a chuckle, “You’re my first.”

His eyes sparkled, filled with pure joy, gazing down to see your cunt, you were bleeding.

“Am I your first too?”

His words make you whimper into a quiet sob, taking that as a yes, he slowly bottoms the rest of his length stilling as he allows your hole to get moderately used to being stretched. Cock twitching to the knowledge of being your first. It threatens to make Haru ejaculate on the spot.

He rests his face into your neck, burying himself further as he finally moves, stroking his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry.” He weeps, “I have to move.”

Was he seriously crying? Things just couldn’t get more bizarre— well more bizarre than it already was anyway.

He kisses the tender spot of your nape, eagerly bucking his hips inside of you. It still burns, but this moment isn’t about you. It’s about him. "It feels so good, so hot-" His words bounce back to you, you exhale with a sigh, sniffling as you held onto your attackers back for some kind of composure.

But he took it completely wrong. To him, it was confirmation.

Confirmation that you wanted this too.

His breathing is erratic, huffing and puffing with each thrust “God, I-” he stumbles upon words, “I love you too.” His arms wrap around your form, teeth gritting into your supple flesh, you mewl.

The lasting pain turned into pleasure, you felt pathetic for feeling any ounce of pleasure from him.

His movements became more rapid, more desperate, he was close. You cried, sobs unintentionally making you clench around his cock, he grunts. “Fuck- bout to cum.”

He sobs as he ruts into your used cunt, groaning “Can I cum inside?” he moans, thinking about it brings him ecstasy. His last thrusts are deep and rough, his grip on you grows tighter and tighter.

“Cumming!”

His warnings bring you deeper into lightheadedness, slipping in and out of consciousness. The last thing you remembered was the feeling of your unsuspecting womb being unwelcomely filled by Haru. Disgust.

He pants as he slips his flaccid cock out of your now unconscious body— webbing of his seed follows his tip.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #haruchiyo sanzu smut #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers thirst #stalker sanzu

1K notes · View notes

monkey-network · 2 years ago

Text

Good Stuff: Batwheels

or How to Stop Worrying and Ride with the Punchline

I remember watching the surprisingly kino Teen Titans GO! movie and getting to the scene where they have the trailers for Alfred Pennyworth and then the Batmobile. I of course snickered poshly and then continued watching the film. It was the year after when they premiered an Alfred series set in the Gotham TV universe and I went "Cool." I didn't care for either so I chuckled robotically and moved on. Then in 2020, they announced a Batmobile kids cartoon and the joke stopped being funny. First, the world descends into madness faster, and now we were getting BATWHEELS?! COMING VROOM?!?!?! Felt like I became the joke because I had to know what it would be like. So it's the current year and this was finally released on Cartoonito. What do I think of it? It's actually pretty fire.

Didn't think we'd get two nickels worth of good cars content this year

To preface, yeah this is more for preschoolers but thankfully it's more family-friendly since it's just entertaining you with crime-fighting adventures. I say it's like a Hot Wheels show that has the vibes of Batman: Brave and the Bold. It works like it feels stupid at first but they run with it; it's like 60s Batman or the Lego Batman Movie where things can get serious but it doesn't have to be serious. It's best to watch the first episode to get the origin story which explains how the cars become sentient. Otherwise, the titular Batwheels work like the Batfamily and it's an enjoyable romp about teamwork, leadership, and getting tricky. Speaking of which...

This series looks amazing like hell yes Neon Gotham

The coloring, character designs, and animation of this are phenomenal. I love the use of 2D particle effects and how the vehicles are able to be expressive. We don't reach Pixar levels of uncanny but aren't just static either. Some goofy ass nerd'll go "Oh, this is just to sell toys" and I'd honestly say "Fuck yeah" because the human and vehicle characters look on point. If you're gonna sell a product, make it worth the purchase. I don't know if this'll go beyond a couple seasons unless they expand the roster but I can see kids loving the look of all this. My only issue... is Joker. He looks zoomerfied, dressed like a bedazzled goober, and is the worse looking out of everyone.

This ain't Joker bro, this is The Jickler #NoJoke

I like how this is both about the vehicles finding their place as heroes and the human heroes you know doing their job. We get a surprisingly diverse cast like it's the first time seeing Duke Thomas Robin on screen. Ethan Hawke works well as Bats, though he's not Will Arnett I'm sorry. The show's probably limiting since it's about cars, but they knew better than to just make this Batman™ except everyone's a car for some reason. The cars don't upstage the heroes and villains, it manages to be a great introduction to the Batman universe. I dunno, something goofy like this surprises me in being a competent, fun-loving action cartoon that makes me forget the turmoil I've been having lately about superhero content. Just saying, the last time I said the word "capeshit", ten angels cried and this series is like the fresh air I needed since Peacemaker.

Takes me back to the Bat Credit Card days anew

This and Hamster & Gretel do good in being superhero shows that work more than expected. I admittedly am tired of Batman being everywhere like when will Green Lantern have his turn again? At the same time, this is cooler than I figured. If you told me in 3rd grade we were gonna have a Batmobile cartoon, I would laugh in your face. If you told me this before 2020 happened, I would still laugh. Now that we're here... I have to kneel. I was gonna point this a 7 or 8 out of 10 cuz you know it's a simple, fun time; good for Saturday mornings. You know what though? For actually sticking the landing and proving me as a naysayer wrong...

9 out of 10; A Motorized Marvel

#Batwheels #Batman #DC #DCAU #cartoon network #cartoonito #cartoons #animation #reviews #Good Stuff

34 notes · View notes

jammyjams1910 · 2 years ago

Text

🚂🖤Wither🖤🚂

Bio:

Birthday is 5th June

Gemini ♊

Male - He/It

Pansexual

British English - has a slight American accent due to living in America for a couple years

Headcannons:

Dense. Very dense. Like spelling and grammar are just... no

Enjoys cross dressing, specifically dresses & skirts

Has been granted super strength by Lady (after pestering her for it like the twat he is ✨)

Has had rivalry with D10 in the past which involved a lot of fights, one of them causing the scar on his eye. But they've moved on from the past and now they can be considered friends

Best friends with Timmy ever since he came to Sodor for the first time, Wither was the first one to talk & befriend him there

Is in a relationship with Duck, he wears that green clip because it reminds him of his Mr Quackers <3

Takes part in the Sodor Search & Rescure Centre

Because of how much he’s been trying to influence Sodor along with his travels, he has a number of bat-shit crazy fans (which is pretty irritating to everyone else trying to get on with their work)

He claims that he can do any job given to him; there ain't one he can't do, but enough people can say otherwise lol

🖤🚂🖤🚂🖤🚂🖤🚂

#ttte #thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #ttte wither🖤#ttte oc #ttte humanised #ttte humanized #ttte humanisation #ttte human au #ttte human #gacha neon #my edit

11 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Hue and Cry VII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), mentions of previous forced oral, abuse of power, these men ain't shit.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You face a reckoning for evading your lord.

Note: This wasn't planned but things just turned out this way because my go to is fuck the reader. Oop.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The nights only got harder. It didn't matter if Lord Barnes wanted to touch you or wanted you to touch him, even just laying beside him was torment. You hated what he'd done to you and what he'd made you do. You hated yourself more for how he made you feel.

You decided that day in the carriage during the rainstorm that you hated him. You hated Lord Barnes more than even Lord Rogers. At least the latter was honest in his lechery, he did not try to veil his true desires but Barnes spoke to you sweetly as he forced his needs upon you.

The night before you were due to reach the capital, you did not sleep. You couldn't in the bed next to Barnes. He wanted to be astride as he entered the city and so you were left to ride alone in the carriage. The sway soon had you across the bench in a deep slumber. It was the best sleep you had in weeks.

You only woke as a hammering came at the door and streaks of sunlight were let in as it opened. A footman called you out and helped you down the step into the dirt. You batted your sleepy eyes and marveled at the castle as it came clear. It was getting colder as the autumn wore on, bitter. It was the wrong season for a tournament.

As you trod through the beaten yard of the castle, Lord Barnes clapped off his right hand, the leather glove dusting, and approached you. He’s gaze strayed to Lord Rogers for a moment then back to you. He dropped his shoulders and scrunched his lips.

“I have an audience with the king,” he said glumly, “as much as I’d prefer you attend with me it has been brought to my attention that… the court might not be as accommodating to you as I am. Regardless, I might have a seat arranged for you at the feast and you were surely sit in the rows for the sparring.”

“I… my lord, I am only--”

“I told you,” he interjected, “you are not a maid anymore.”

You held your tongue as you wanted to spit at him. What were you? A courtesan? A whore? Was that better than emptying his pot? You dipped your head and pulled your cape snug, “my lord.”

“See her to my rooms,” Barnes directed the footman at your shoulder, “once the chests are unpacked, she is to be undisturbed. My guard will have the same orders.”

“Yes, my lord,” the footman bowed, “my lady.”

You looked at the footman and slowly followed him away from Barnes. You were eager to be away from him but not eager to be shown your new prison. You entered the castle and followed the torchlit corridors beside the footman.

“I’m not a lady,” you said at last, “I don’t want you to ever call me that again.”

“My apologies, my--” he stuttered, “the lord bid it.”

“He lies to himself and you,” you muttered, “I was born as you, likely lower. My own mother was a laundress and my father a stablehand. Cut from the finest, I am.”

The footman was quiet as he waved you ahead of him up the coiling stairwell. You regretted your harsh words but knew they could never be delivered to their true target. When you reached the chamber designated to your master, you stopped outside. Lester was already at his station by the lord’s doors.

“I am sorry,” you told the footman, “I was unkind. You do not deserve that.”

His lips curved slightly and he hid his amusement, “I know now you are like me,” he said softly, “the nobles, they don’t apologise.”

You chuckled darkly and left him. You passed the servants as they carried in trunks and opened them in a flurry of duty. You went to the bedroom and climbed up on the large feather mattress. That time you had to yourself, even surrounded by the chaos of your arrival, was a relief. You did not know how long you’d get away from Barnes.

🏰

You fell asleep again. This time, you weren’t floating in your dreams, driven wildly by the tides, but you were still, straight as a board in the ground as dirty sprinkled onto you. The cold earth warmed as the layers piled on you. Deeper, deeper, deeper until you couldn’t breathe.

You woke with a start and nearly screamed as a shadow loomed over you. Barnes sat beside you, his legs over the edge of the couch. He played with the lifeless fingers of his artificial hand. Your hood was on the pillow, crumpled and the folds of your dress were bunched awkwardly beneath your body.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured, “just wanted to sit with you.”

“How long--”

“It is almost time for supper,” he said, “but the feast is not until the morrow. You might remain and rest some more.”

You didn’t move, just looked up at the canopy and laid there. You didn’t say anything more as you folded your arms over the stiff bodice.

“You should sleep… the journey was long. Tiring,” he continued.

You just blinked but didn’t close your eyes. The canopy was a rich green marked with gold. The stitches were woven in the shape of leaves and vines. You thought of the forest and those days you were so scared. You were much more terrified now.

“I wanted to say, and I should now since you are awake,” he began as he leaned on his elbow and his other arm fell limp and heavy, “what occurred with Rogers will not arise again. I made him a promise I regret and it was sorted.”

You held back a shudder as you thought of the salty tasted and the pungent scent of their arousal. You swallowed and hugged yourself tighter.

“If he attempts to reenact the scene, or more, you will inform me, and you have my leave to see that he does not,” Barnes said sternly, “you are still mine. I would not have you confused.”

You rolled onto your side so that your back was to him. He huffed and his hand fell onto your side. He squeezed and the bed shifted. He said your name and every muscle in your body went taut.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“I’m tired,” you said.

“I want no mistake. You--”

“I belong to you,” you sneered, “you want to use me, you want to own me, you want me to tell you I know I am nothing but the dirt beneath your boot. Let me assure you I am aware--”

“Do not speak to me as such,” he hissed.

You bit back your voice and heaved. You sucked in your cheeks and wriggled away from his reach. “It is understood, my lord. Now as you bid, I would sleep.”

🏰

The only grace allowed you at the feast, rather denied you, was a seat with your lord. As much as Barnes would prefer to have you close he was still bound by the expectations of court. He didn't let on that you were merely a servant but you didn't think anyone could believe otherwise. For his vouching, you were sat among the lower lords and ladies.

You watched as wine was poured for you. You eyed the girl who kept her chin down as the filled the cups and thought of your own time in a similar duty. What did Barnes find so fascinating about you? You had only done what dozens others had done for him before. You couldn't figure you had an outstanding feature or manner that could explain his interest, it could only be your own poor luck.

You ate without tasting, without zeal, slowly as you brought fork to lip and dissolved into the chatter of strangers around you. All those seated at the long tables had a partner or some family with them. You were alone. Your parents were dead and all those you'd ever had a kindred tie to were far away.

"Uncle," a voice perked up across from you and drew your attention as you chewed the spiced rabbit meat, "if I made the lists, surely I can win!"

"My coin got you on those lists," the older man replied, "it is all formality. Should you gace a king or a duke, you would be remiss to claim victory."

"I am to lay down for their title?" The younger scoffed, "I am a man now and I have trained--"

"But you think like a boy," the other rebuked, "a runner up can take a fine purse still and if you feed the ego of a high borne man he will be more willing to show you favour."

You lowered your fork and looked at the two men as they argued. The elder`s hair was sprinkled with grey but the rest the same shade of reddish brown as the youth. You were heartened by their familial banter but saddened at your own solace. You dropped your hands to your lap and looked at your plate.

"Dear," the woman beside you touched your sleeve, "are you well?"

You turned to her startled and nodded. "Yes, my lady," you cleared your throat, "fine indeed."

She peered past you then shared a look with the older man across the table. She was not so grey as him. She smiled and withdrew her hand. "You are alone?"

"Only me, my lady," you answered.

"And overly polite," she chuckled, "a pity. A young girl sent to court without escort. What family could do such a thing? You must be frightened out of your wits."

"I will… persevere," you said.

"Ay but it is the nature of these events to be cordial. I am May Parker, my husband is a baron," she gestured to the older man across from you, "Benjamin, and my nephew, Peter, a viscount in his beloved father's stead," she smiled at the younger man, "and your name?"

You hadn't been told what to say in the circumstance. You hadn't thought of it and surely Barnes hadn't either. You would have to garnish the truth with enough lies to get by. You twined your fingers together. You offered your name, your truth, then conjured your lies as you spoke.

"My father is, er, was, a baron as well," you said, "I am his only child."

"Oh, you sweet thing, if you would be alone for this tournament, you might stay near to us. My nephew hasn't many peers of his age just yet, and my husband is much too weary to keep up with him."

You glanced around, the two men bowed their heads in greeting. You attempted a smile and thanked her.

"Our Peter will be competing in the joust and in the sword contest," she announced, "we did urge him to enter the bow and arrow but he finds it dull."

"Oh," you were uncertain how to address these people, to speak as if you were their equal, "I've never attended a tourney before."

"Best you stay close then," she squeezed your hand gently, "why look at all these people! Even that Duke from the north came, bless him, that one who did lose his arm in the campaigns."

You reached for your wine to hide your discomfort at the mention of him. All you had to do was pretend for the evening and you'd likely not see these people again. As friendly as they were, you couldn't stand to make friends only to lose them.

You listened for the rest of the courses as May and her family did much of the talking. There were moments you forgot your predicament, even that you were born a peasant, but when it returned to you, the food turned to a lump in your stomach and your heart clamoured.

You were roused from the waking dream only as the music plucked up and the plates were cleared by your own ilk. May chuckled and stood as her husband came around to her. She paused as the bodies flooded from the benches onto the boards. She touched your shoulder kindly, "if you would be in want of a partner, our Peter is rather graceful."

You looked to the younger Parker and he lit up. "Only if you like, miss."

"I… would say I am not so," you said evasively.

"It would not bother me, I trained with the old hound that slept in our barn, he slobbered quite heavily," he laughed, "but I would be indebted should you allow me the treat of a true partner."

"I suppose…" you looked to the high table where Barnes scowled at Lord Rogers, entirely unconcerned with you for the first time in a while. Perhaps this was a chance; lose yourself in the crowd and you might find the opening you needed. Or perhaps merely a respite from him at least, "I do warn you however, I would not know where to place my feet."

May and Benjamin swept away as Peter came around to you. He offered his arm and you mimicked the other ladies as you took it.

He lifted his shoulders proudly as he led you to the floor, "only step around my own and I will do my best not to trod on your slippers, lady." He turned you in time with the music, your arms hooked so that you faced in opposing direction, "follow me and do not worry so much. No one is watching us so closely."

You smiled, a real smile that time as the strings and flutes filled your chest. As this kind stranger patiently guided you around the boards. You raised your chin as you did your best to stay on the beat but nearly tripped as your eyes met another pair.

Lord Barnes glared down at you from the high table, the only lord remaining in his seat, and his hand gripped the stem of his goblet tightly. Even at the distance, you felt his chagrin. And as he stood, your sole met Peter's toe but he only snickered and righted you.

"You're doing fine, lady," he assured as he spun and switched arms, you let him lead you dumbly as you watched Barnes descend from the dais, "a natural."

444 notes · View notes

madaboutmunson · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Together?

Way off canon story about someone who has been living in the upside down for much longer than the events of stranger things and has to learn to share their once peaceful space, with a recently abandoned Eddie Munson

Characters: OC (Harlow Carini), Eddie Munson

Warnings: Swearing, weapons

"Ok, well…I'm just gonna leave, then," Harlow says, shrugging.

"You're…you're just going to up and leave? Not even going to ask anything?" Eddie shuts his eyes and tries to keep his cool by keeping his mouth tight. Some of his words pushed through his teeth with mild aggression.

"I just think this isn't gonna end well for me. This place is creepy as hell. That guy over there has knives, plural, and you just want me to waltz up to this weird old lady and harass her for information? Uh-uh, no way, buddy. I'm leaving," Harlow reasons.

"You know what? Ok, go ahead. See how far you get," Eddie says, falling back into his chair, his lips pursed. He throws his hands onto his lap with a loud slap, like he's given up.

"Right, I'm doing it. I'm going. I'm opening the door," Harlow says gingerly.

"The door is locked", Eddie states, tilting his head to the side, smiling at Harlow.

"I just bloody came through here. I know it ain't fucking locked, mate!" Harlow's Britishness tended to become more pronounced the more frustrated they got.

"You know what, fine. I'll just boot it in" Harlow stares at Eddie with ferocity. This little twerp was getting right on their last nerve today.

Harlow scans the area, "Which one is it again, this one?" He holds up an eight-sided die.

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and cracks his neck. His teeth are clenched tight, "No, it's the d20. The one with the most sides."

"I thought that was for hitting and missing? I can't miss a ruddy great door, can I?" Harlow complains.

Eddie stares at Harlow and looks between them and the d20 a few times until they pick it up.

Harlow mumbles to themselves as they pick up the die, "This must be purgatory or hell" They force a smile at Eddie and without breaking their mutual stare, Harlow rolls the d20 onto the table.

Once the rolling noise subsides, they break their mutual annoyed stare and check the die.

"19!" Harlow celebrates, "I'm out, right?".

Harlow looks up at Eddie. His nose is wrinkled up, his eyes dark voids of rage, and his mouth a small thin line of pure hatred.

Eddie turns his eyes back to Harlow and, through a clenched jaw, says, "How many times, really? You have to roll for damage, you stupid c- "

"You know what, I don't have to take this shit. I'm playing this maths problem disguised as a game, for you, you little scrote." Harlow says, putting on their altered neck brace, torso belt, and the bandana covering their face.

"You need some time to calm the fuck down. Otherwise, you'll be on your own again, comprende?" Harlow picks up their double-ended weapon, grabs for the trailer door, and stomps their way outside.

"Fuck you!" Eddie screeches after them.

On the way back to their chosen residence, any stray bats flying at Harlow soon met a swift, aggressive end and were sliced asunder. Harlow was so used to them they didn't even need to look at them most of the time.

Harlow usually avoided killing the bats because it just worked up the whole area, and stuff would get moved around, but Harlow was so enraged.

A few days ago…actually, was it days? It could have been longer or shorter. Time was weird here. Anyway…some time ago, things had been much more straightforward. Harlow pretty much had the place to themselves, there had been a bit of increased activity, but that did happen once in a blue moon.

Harlow kept out of the way in this instance of disturbance and the few previous ones. Watched from the shadows and didn't interfere. Well, there was that time with the kid when Harlow distracted some of the creatures a few times before it got really intense, then Harlow just had to hope rescue would come. Harlow didn't mind secretly helping out, but they weren't a martyr, not by a long shot.

The latest disturbance was something else. There were a bunch of them, running around, messing with stuff, lights flickering, setting the bats off. It was absolute mayhem. Harlow had just tucked themselves away, occasionally spying, trying to see where they were coming from or going to. Maybe they had a way out, even though Harlow wasn't sure they wanted a way out at that point. It was tough here, but they answered to no one, and no one was looking for them.

Then if that wasn't bad enough, they came back again!! Who would do that?? The way they were dressed had Harlow worried. They were really gonna try to take that thing down.

Harlow was interested in the result obviously but had no interest in making themselves complicit in the process. So they settled down with a book and peeked out occasionally.

Harlow hadn't expected two of them to set up shop a few trailers away from their residence. They'd reinforced one of the trailers, which was impressive despite all the bloody racket.

Quiet returned. Harlow poured themselves a tea from their enhanced teapot and wiggled back into their rocking chair.

No sooner had they sighed gratefully at the first filtered sip of tea, a noise like nothing Harlow had ever heard burst into their living room, causing a tea spill of epic proportions.

"Fuckin' 'ell", they'd cursed aloud through their teeth.

Harlow pulled back one of the many sliding parts of their trailer and had a look outside. They were on top of the trailer. One of them is ferociously attacking a weird-looking guitar, giant amps blasting out the noise.

"Shit!" Harlow slammed the slider back, did a quick security check of their trailer, put on the extra bolts, and removed the barricading items from the storage room.

They put on extra protective gear and retrieved their wooden staff. It had a crude knife shoved in the end, but it was enough.

Harlow braced themselves for the impending swarm, but only a few bumped into their trailer.

"COME GET ME, YOU SONSABITCHES!" Harlow heard someone screech.

Not long after, a different voice "EDDIE???!!!!"

Harlow froze to the spot and held their breath. Then, the voice disappeared into the distance.

The whole place shook violently, the normally gently squelching vines retracting and flailing around like very angry tentacles. Harlow held on for dear life, a force was tearing through the place, and there was nothing they could do about it.

It had been at least two good periods of sleep since the whole place went to shit, but things seemed to have settled into their new locations. Harlow started taking down the barricades. New noises entered their space as the padded mattresses came down. Harlow kept all their protective gear on in case of any leaks.

Harlow slid open the compartment again to look out. Someone army crawling or dragging themselves back to the trailer, using the railing to stand and looking around, before entering the mostly destroyed abode.

Over the next few days, a person slowly but surely grated on Harlow's nerves. If they weren't cussing loudly, training with their spear, destroying the area or playing that blasted guitar, they were sobbing. The sobs were loud and guttural.

Harlow tried not to admit it, but they pitied the guy. A few times, Harlow had snuck out and left things for him to find that might help him. Extra bandanas were strewn around, A random dried root vegetable or two that Harlow had managed to cultivate themselves (after years of trial and error). They weren't anything close to the stuff you could grow in actual sunlight, but most things would just rot here usually, and Harlow had been storing them safely for a while. A few random pieces of clothing and books that Harlow had already read to death.

Harlow had allowed themselves to help but without making contact. Maybe the people would come back for him. Perhaps he was in league with something genuinely evil. The noises that he made come out of his guitar certainly sounded that way. He would often play his guitar, not always through the amps. Though he had started to perfect how to trap a solitary bat, which was quite impressive, Harlow had developed an eye twitch that coincided with the buzz when the guitar was plugged in.

The noise became constant all day, every day. Until one day, Harlow had enough. They could get no peace. It was the thunderous and distorted version of Jingle Bells that made Harlow lose their mind.

"WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?????!!!! PLEASE!!" Harlow had screamed, bursting out the door of their trailer.

Harlow remembers the silence hanging in the air. Then, finally, they breathed a sigh of relief and heard the arrhythmic quick, paced run of sneakers.

"Fucks sake", Harlow had nearly sobbed into their hands in that beautiful, almost quiet.

Content that they had done enough to scare the lad at least, Harlow decided to scavenge in the forested area.

The absence of noise had weirdly made the place feel strange, unnerving. Making Harlow double annoyed because it meant they'd gotten used to the little weirdo.

A bag of bits and pieces later. Harlow had returned to their trailer and was busy unlocking the many security measures they had added.

Something dropped from the sky with a thud to the side of Harlow, and instinctively the blade of their makeshift weapon went to it. It was the kid. Fuck.

Harlow called this guy the kid, but didn't actually look any older than him. Harlow had no idea how long they'd been stuck here. All they knew was there had been a time and space shift, when Harlow had been forced through that rift back in 1969.

The kid was standing there, eyes sore from crying. He was dressed in combat gear, but nothing in the way that would help him in an attack ensued. The knife at the end of Harlow's staff trained perfectly at the base of this guy's neck.

The kid kept utterly still, staring wide-eyed at Harlow, taking in their entire appearance. He was clutching something tight in his arms. Harlow kept their weapon still but stepped back to create more distance between them.

Despite his vulnerable predicament, he was first to first to speak. He gave a weak smile, looking around the place, "You know, for a while, I thought there might be someone else here, but then I thought, 'Oh, I'm probably just losing my mind', ya know?"

Harlow tightened their grip on their weapon and pushed it at him again.

"Hey, hey, hey! Everything is cool. I'm cool. Promise." He rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh, "You wouldn't believe the irony of this situation. I'm Eddie."

Eddie wouldn't have been able to see due to the number of things covering Harlow's face, but the confusion was all over their face.

"Go back home, Eddie," Harlow had said gruffly

Harlow will never forget that face. First, Eddie's eyes dropped to the floor, his eyebrows pushed together in absolute sadness, then his big eyes were on Harlow's face again, and they brimmed with tears, "Please", he'd said shakily in almost a whisper.

It wouldn't have been impossible to refuse him at that moment, but then he stretched his arms out to the sides and took a step forward.

Harlow instinctively pulled the weapon back a little and, in that movement, knew the battle was lost, "Are you fucking insane?" Harlow had said.

"Probably", Eddie smiled.

There was an awkward silence. Then, finally, Harlow pointed at his arms, "What you got there then?"

Eddie's body shifted into a confident and relaxed stance, "Have you ever heard of Dungeons & Dragons?"

That's how it started.

Eddie needed people. Maybe he didn't always like them or show it, but he needed them. Even if it was just so he had someone to perform in front of.

Harlow didn't need people. They loathed most of them intensely, and here, they hadn't had to suffer any for a very long time. But, Harlow was not entirely heartless and grew to like Eddie.

There were some huge differences between them, but they had good moments too.

Eddie was a problem solver, and this is something Harlow admired. Eddie's brain was this massive library of information. Which sounded good in theory, though all the books were out of order and the librarian mostly ignored you, but every so often, the book you needed was already in their hand.

Like when he'd got one of his weird Dungeons and Dragons drawings out and showed Harlow a double glaive. Eddie had explained he'd seen how well Harlow used his staff, but the tiny knife was "pathetic", and Harlow would look so much more "badass" with this weapon.

Harlow and Eddie had gone out and found the materials and constructed it. In exchange, Harlow had made Eddie some custom protective gear. It was the same basis as Harlow's to protect against the standard bat attack. A neck brace with a gap between it and the person's neck, wrapped in something painful for the bat that would try to wrap around, and the torso belt with metal side plates to stop their takedown bites.

Harlow had scoured around and found some leather and denim materials, light chains, and razor blades that made Eddie's brace and belt look "very metal".

Harlow also made him a garrotte from some of his old guitar strings.

Harlow remembered Eddie running around the place with his new gear on, trying to coax the bats into a fight, and laughing maniacally when it tried to wrap around him and end up flying away screeching.

That was moments before its friends arrived, and Harlow had to drag Eddie inside before it was too late.

Harlow imagined this was how Eddie operated. Like a slow creeping moss of likeability, Eddie had something in his tool kit that Harlow did not. Charm. He was unashamedly himself, which is something Harlow couldn't do.

However, when they butted heads, it was volatile. There was never a mild disagreement. It was either getting along or an all-out war.

Eventually, someone would cave and go say Hi. Apologies were rare. It was usually an unspoken 'let's move past it, shall we?"

Harlow looked at the tally on the wall and sighed. It was their turn. They entered their trailer, moved out the bookshelf, opened the hidden compartment, and took out a small set of detail brushes and a small wooden figure Harlow had whittled. They bundled them into a small knapsack, headed over to Eddie's trailer and left them outside his door.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie stranger things #eddie the freak munson #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #au #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #Spotify

12 notes · View notes

slaapkat · 4 years ago

Note

Green Lantern + ISA - MR. BIG - "When Larry said his biggest enemy was Green Lantern, they didn't think he meant literally..." [Where rest of the ISA are floored at how GIGANTIC he is irl. Except Brainwave. He is jelly he ain't the tallest no more]

(set very early ISA)

---

We’re going to die, aren’t we?

It’s hard not to react at the thought that gets pushed into his head, courtesy of Henry. Impossibly, Jordan manages to keep a straight face throughout it all, even as Larry continues excitedly chattering away as though this were the first time he’s had a captive audience in ages. Though, given Larry’s entire demeanor, maybe just the first time it’s been a willing one.

They’ve all gathered in Larry’s apartment, for once. The drive from New York City to Gotham had been nothing short of arduous, with Henry’s insistence on the radio being permanently set to NPR, and the frankly indecipherable directions Larry had sent them to navigate the labyrinthian streets of inner-city Gotham.

All for a heist Larry had promised was going to be well worth it. The city was full of easy marks, he said. Barely anyone around to stop you, he said. Half the time the cops will even help, he said.

Henry still wasn’t buying it, sat on the sidelines on the edge of a very beat-up couch, arms crossed with a deepening frown, openly projecting his disapproval at having been talked into this every chance he got. Larry, for his part, is completely oblivious, grinning brightly as he eagerly shows off his proudly curated wall of weapons-- by all accounts just a fancy collection of sports equipment. The key difference, however, being Larry’s showing off amounting to pointing out every piece and explaining in graphic detail exactly how he got kicked out of that particular sport for killing or otherwise maiming someone without sparing a single gorey thing.

Jordan, sure to Henry’s extreme displeasure, is unfortunately fascinated with it all, eyes wide and bright and listening intently, utterly absorbed. He remembers researching Sportsmaster for weeks before finally seeking him out, carefully nurturing the idea of the new ISA all the while in the hopes that he’d finally get a bite. It must mean something that Larry had invited them all the way back to his home turf to share on a score, surly.

Because he’s going to kill us.

It’s now Jordan finally frowns, turning to face Henry with a stern, “He’s not.”

“Hah?” Larry’s looking at him, confused, brows furrowed and head tilted, grin still plastered on but for a second seeming vaguely threatening instead of manically excited.

Jordan startles, scrambling for a distraction and pointing at the first thing he sees, a long-handled wooden mallet with a narrow-tipped head still hanging on the wall. “I-- I mean, what’s that?”

It’s a sufficient enough distraction, apparently. Larry’s eyes light up in an instant when he sees, grinning brightly as he pulls the object down and looks down at it with a dreamy sigh.

“My polo mallet,” he declares proudly. “I’ll be taking this baby with me, tonight.”

“That?” Henry scoffs, finally taking a stand and gesturing disbelievingly at the mallet. “What use could that possibly be to us? And since when do you play polo?”

“Not since I caved a man’s head in on the field with this ol’ beauty here,” Larry states much too casually, his tone taking on an oddly wistful note as he strokes the head of it. If there’s a threat carried in there, it’s buried deep enough not to be obvious, though the suspicious stains that Jordan notices in the wood of the mallet certainly make Larry’s point well enough known. Henry’s eyes narrow, and Jordan feels a pressure on his temples usually indicative of Henry flexing his powers without strict care of a specific target, but whatever Henry sees is apparent enough not to make him press further. His lips press into a thin line and he relinquishes the point, however reluctantly. Jordan inserts himself more obviously in between the two of them and attempts an encouraging smile.

“Henry, it’s made of wood,” Jordan points out helpfully, like it’s supposed to explain everything-- because, well, it is. It evidently doesn’t. Henry’s frown only deepens and Jordan finds himself struggling for an explanation that didn’t sound completely ridiculous, all the while Larry whistles uncaringly and picks various other wooden implements off the wall in preparation for that night. “Because-- Because. Gotham has a superhero who is… weak to wood.”

Jordan sighs and cringes as soon as he says it, cringing again when Larry chirps “It’s true!” over his shoulder. It does not help his case in the slightest. Henry sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, as though staving off a fast-rising headache. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Fine. Do we even have a plan to deal with him if he shows up?”

“Don’t get your snuggie in a twist, Brainy,” Larry says brightly, laughing as he hefts a cricket bat of all things onto his shoulder and wrangles Jordan in close with an arm thrown around his. “Of course we have a plan! Classic smash and grab! We get in and get out before the Big Guy ever knows what’s up!”

Wrong answer, apparently, as evidenced by Henry running a hand down his face in exasperation and groaning, with an added little oh, so we are going to die projected mentally for Jordan’s benefit. Jordan smiles rather terribly. Larry seems to take it all as signs of encouragement.

“Alright then, bud, alright!” Larry lets out with a whoop, and plants a sloppy wet kiss on Jordan’s cheek with an audible smack; subsequently, the temperature of the room drops ten degrees in an instant. Nobody seems to notice. “It’s game time, baby!”

---

Heists in Gotham apparently don’t amount to much. Larry’s big score turns out to be a slightly upscale jewelry store right on the edge of the Diamond District. Henry’s car is stashed in a nearby alleyway in case of a quick getaway after several earnest promises (by Jordan) that it won’t get stolen and easy assurances (by Larry) that the job will be quick enough that they’ll be back before that even happens.

“Is it always this easy in Gotham?” Jordan asks, having dutifully frozen solid all the alarms and cameras to allow for Larry to go to town on the window with his bat and an excited hyena-like cackle; Henry stands watch, having been designated as the lookout due to his adamant refusal to partake in any actual smashing until it came time for the grabbing, though Jordan can sense him rolling his eyes even while turned away.

“Sure is!” Larry replies, vaulting through the destroyed window and wasting no time in driving his fist through the nearest glass display case and grabbing a fistful of jeweled necklaces, stuffing them in his pack and immediately moving on to the next one. “Do you know how many other places are being robbed at this exact moment? They can’t catch all of us!”

Jordan makes a face, but nonetheless climbs in and joins Larry in gathering as many priceless jewels as he could get his hands on; Henry lingers just outside, watching them with shrewd disapproval until his face screws up in confusion, nose wrinkling.

“Is something… burning?”

That’s enough to give Jordan pause, halfway through driving an ice spike into a safe. The entire store had been dusted with a coating of frost, logically nothing should be getting hot enough to even make a spark. Sure enough, he smells it too-- that unmistakable scent of something on fire, intermixed with the distinct smell of ozone. That couldn’t be right--

Jordan has just enough time to hear Larry’s little ruh-oh before the wall to the side of them suddenly erupts in stunningly bright, green flames. Henry swears aloud, and Jordan feels inclined to join him when the flames unfurl to reveal an outright giant of a man, eyes alight in burning fury and nearly outright snarling at the lot of them. Green Lantern, Jordan knows immediately, remembers him from his first meeting with Larry, but seeing someone in flight is leagues different from seeing it right in front of you, a brick wall of a man emerging like a demon from Hell. Jordan feels himself sweating, actually sweating-- or was he melting? All he knows is that this man is terrifyingly huge, and Larry seemed the only one utterly unconcerned by it.

“Greenie!” Larry greets enthusiastically, arms spread wide as though expecting a hug, and though his mask hides his face Jordan can hear his exuberant and manic grin loud and clear though his voice. “Where ya been, huh? How’s it going?”

“I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!” comes the roared reply, a shot of flaming green energy launched in his direction, swiftly deflected with a swing of Larry’s bat and an excited laugh.

“Aww, I missed you too!”

Jordan finds himself slowly backing away as Larry barks out another laugh and launches himself, bat swinging, at Green Lantern with seemingly little care to himself or others, and even less care to just how much Green Lantern seems to dwarf all of them combined.

“That’s Green Lantern?” Henry hisses through clenched teeth when Jordan returns to his side. “That’s Green Lantern, and we let Larry bring a polo mallet and a baseball bat?”

“He’s weak to wood!”

A plume of emerald flame explodes out the store window, ejecting an airborne Larry along with it, signed Sportsmaster mask and all. He skids and rolls along the street until he comes to a stop and jumps up, wild-eyed.

“Start the car!” He shouts, then unsheathes the mallet and dives right back in without hesitation. Another roar is heard and the foundation quakes faintly beneath their feet. Jordan wilts just slightly. Henry turns with an annoyed hmph and Jordan finds himself trailing after, not quite trusting his powers in the face of the broiling heat inside.

“That’s Green Lantern,” Henry repeats, seemingly to himself, scoffing. “Good lord. Even his presence gives me a headache. And he’s taller than me. Remind me never to set foot in Gotham again.”

Jordan, despite everything, finds himself agreeing.

#IM SORRY IF THIS WASN'T QUITE WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR BUT UH. I TRIED.#IM SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE #FIC #ALAN SCOTT #ICICLE #SPORTSMASTER #BRAINWAVE #ISA #Anonymous

8 notes · View notes

middleinthenight21 · 5 years ago

Text

Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

@ravenfan1242 I don't know what I would do without your help. I have told you.

You are incredibly beautiful 💕

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

"So funny." Garfield smiled and Raven grimaced.

The demons smiled when they saw that they had lost, and the angels looked away from the pain.

"Why are you with me? "

The phrase came out hard and cold, as if she were asking a criminal why he decided on that life. She was tired and angry, tired of going through the uncertainty that his voice loved her so much and not meeting her expectations, of wondering what would become of Garfield if Terra hadn't died and wanted to get him out of her veins.

She clearly saw the disinterest; it was tattooed on his soul and he did not realize it.

If he gave her a reason to stay ...

Garfield looked up. "Excuse me?"

It's now or never.

"Maybe you should free me." She leaned against the counter. Her hands dug into the soft fabric of her clothing, like an anchor; She hadn't expected her heart to squeeze, she kept screaming, hitting the walls to stop it, but her mind reminded her that she was the girl who survived hell. Gathering her strength "Why are you with me? " She repeated.

Suddenly she's tired of building walls around the relationship to watch them fall repeatedly. She no longer wants to murmur that they are okay with others when they ignored each other, from having rowdy arguments only to end up coming back, offering flowers and hugs, as if that was enough to convince her, she had wasted whole nights trying to square their differences, watching the heavens and whispering to their gods to end all this.

She had been taught in stories that love should hurt, otherwise it wouldn't be worth it in the end. You get to know him, you fall in love, you suffer until you get your happy ending, cost and prize.

Fuck this love.

If he's playing, just let her know.

He sent her a painful look, put his cell phone aside "Rae…"

No, they would not do this again.

She stepped back.

Garfield stood up, smoothing down his pajamas, and for the first time in months she saw him take on a serious expression. He walked slowly, like stepping on needles and spread his hands trying to join them, but she moved away, shaking her head repeatedly.

"I love you. Rae please. " One of his hands caressed her cheek. He brushed her short hair behind her ear. "I love only you. Nobody else. "

She stepped back, pulling his hands away, and muttered, "You know it's not true."

She didn't realize how much it hurt until the words left her mouth. They became a curse, a truth that turned hearts to dust, but for Raven it is not an unusual sensation, more like hearing the last words of a condemned man.

She crossed her arms ignoring his face "We both know this was going to end like this. "

Garfield shook his head and put their foreheads together, she could no longer fight this. She saw his aura weaving into deep blue, a shade she didn't often see, but it wasn't the same as when a certain person died in his arms, it's not that sadness.

It was not the same.

Her green hair was soft, heshe smelled of shampoo made of plants, like a forest, and his breath of milk, like a cat; his hands cupped her cheeks being tender and soft. She almost melted, a part of her wanted to be left alone to receive his attention and affection, it told her stories of how they could rebuild and evolve, she would eat from the leftovers for a while longer until she realized that she is malnourished and sick.

Her father teased her about being too silly, laughed at Garfield and the situation.

"Come on, Raven. I love you and I want to be with you" he said. One of his hands went down to her jaw to trace her neck and settle on the nape of her neck, wanting them to get even closer. "Don't stop this. Don't do this to us. "

She closed her eyes tight.

Get out of this. It's now or never.

She pulled away, denying with a broken voice and tear-clouded eyes. Perhaps this was a weakness, a vicious cycle, for a long time he was her toxin, a drug that was destroying her every day, but she continued to cling to the pleasurable effects, dependence and habit helped her ignore the adverse factors.

Something that made you feel so good couldn't hurt you, right?

"I will not return to the same. We've been like this a long time, Gar" He looked at her; Her green eyes reflecting pain and she swears she'll miss having him so close. "Think about the future, you would be unhappy by my side; be honest you will never love me. We will be miserable together"

"Why are you doing this? "

Why was he acting like it was her fault? He knew what she was talking about, he saw what was hurting them. She gave the final blow, but that fight already started long ago.

The answer was clear "Because I'm not her. "

He stepped back, opening his mouth and closing it, unable to answer. Garfield was hurt, her words were like daggers and she felt terrible, but it is the truth; Raven is not Terra and is exhausted from pretending that he loves her.

For eight months she was a ghost, a specter threatening in the corners, Raven felt her presence unnoticeable in the eyes of the boy who swore he loved her; He was running after someone who would never belong to him and turned his torment on her, carrying her bound in chains with caresses. The chains wouldn't hurt until they hurt her wrists, his caresses turned into pins, and he would never admit that it was his fault.

Okay, she would accept it.

She didn't directly name Terra, but it's not a taboo in her mouth. After two years, the name of the former Titans member still hurt, it was a wound that would never heal for Garfield, perhaps it would live forever, nailed to his bones and running through his veins.

She hit him hard in a vulnerable spot and it felt wrong, like desecrating a holy temple, but she had no other way to show him the truth. Before they were dating, they were friends and Raven ruined everything.

His friendship, his love and companionship.

She bowed her head.

"Hey, sweetheart."

Dick smiles at the door and his girlfriend frowns, realizing something is wrong, but by then Raven is already gone.

A million thoughts go through her mind, like a whirlpool. When she opens the door to the roof of the tower the sky is a thick gray soup, there are no traces of the sun's rays, but the promise of a rain.

***

She always returned to Riva Street every time a memory haunted her.

Gotham has the charm of a Francisco de Goya painting, somewhat dark and twisted, it has Wayne Tower, a standard of progress for the city; Raven remembers her open mouth trying to analyze the immensity of the fortune and the power of the millionaire family of the city of the bat, Metropolis shone like the sun in summer, it was beautiful and wide, guarded by the most powerful hero in the world, but not compared to the magnificence of Wayne Tower, the Daily Planet looked like just one more figure blending in with the city, in her time in Azarath she was surrounded by incredible beauty and temples, Jump City was insignificant compared to the places she saw with her eyes, it was a city with the smell of a port, whose inhabitants depended on the coast and tourism.

Gotham has Wayne Tower, Metropolis tot Daily Planet, and Azarath had its temples, but none have Riva Street.

When Raven joined the Titans, she was a hurt and scared girl, who saw deaths, destruction, and dwelt in hell, loving a being who was unable to feel, value, and deserve love, but she had. That was her mistake.

She felt like a stranger, an invisible entity wandering the streets of a foreign city; She looked like a girl, but inside she felt much older. Starfire had shaken her hand, as if she needed a direction, held it so sweetly that she almost cried because she had been stroked long ago with the same kind of love.

Emotions came to her like the wind, it was a strong current that pushed her back almost releasing the hand of the alien princess, but she just whispered that she shouldn’t be scared. Raven had frowned because she probably thought she was shocked by the number of people roaming the streets and that couldn't be further from the truth.

Dick smiled at the scene. Even meters away, she sensed the warmth, how the hero's heart beat strongly, like a horse's trot and almost fell to the melted ground, she believed that it could not be more clear, it was obvious that he wanted the newly baptized leader of the Titans.

She grimaced, wanting to get away from this situation.

Raven did not want this familiarity, she did not deserve it after her choices. Sooner or later it would go wrong, the prophecy was set in stone, it was impossible to erase, and it was the first time that she seriously considered getting lost in the streets and disappearing forever.

Starfire led her by the hand towards a store, eager to try on an outfit she saw on a mannequin, but the girl's vision was focused on an alley, it did not seem part of the city with its buildings and gray streets. It was a corner with the cobblestone floor, small houses painted in different colors, square like match boxes with beautiful terraces adorned with flowers and plants. The restaurants served pizzas, spaghetti and all kinds of typical dishes, people gathered around tables chatting with their friends and families.

She watched people reading, laughing with their children and couples shaking hands.

The aura was tinged with pink, a color that she had never seen before in a concentration that made the sky seem like a sunset.

"If you want, we can go," Dick interjected.

She nodded, showing no emotion.

Years later, she continued to walk down Riva Street, that hidden alley that did not correspond to the city, just like her. Riva street was her, with its relaxed atmosphere, small family restaurants, ice cream parlors and bookstores, it was her secret, nobody knew how much she liked it.

Raven had started and finished books at this place. She created memories, like a buried capsule that few knew about.

It was too intimate.

She knew that her home was with her friends, the people she considers as family, who would die for her and would protect her with their life. It is not a place, but if she would ever settle it would be on this street.

Raven would lease an apartment on Riva Street, perhaps on the second floor of that bookstore with the unpronounceable name that specializes in classics and mystery novels; She would have a cat or dog as a pet who would walk by her side, read on the benches and it would feel great. She would rebuild her relationship with herself.

It was a nice dream.

She sat in a chair waiting for her coffee.

She took the book out of her bag. The first edition of The Raven glowed with its worn cover, it had become a symbol, a sign that her feelings must be thrown away in the trash, the moment she realized it and ran a hand over the object, stroking the bird image.

She frowned.

Her heart gave a painful beat, but she was not ill. She had been through this situation before; She knew this emotion and she was not going to allow it to continue.

How did it make a difference if she started liking him or it was dumb confusion at a low time?

Not that she had much experience around relationships. Her previous relationship was living proof, since then she had made a calculation, perhaps the outcome was not entirely her fault, but Raven tended to cling to people who would never feel the same way about her, loved and hoped they would return it. Her father, her demonic brothers, Garfield ...

Damian would only be one more number on her list. He was already having a bad time for her to have confusion, he didn't need any more drama in his life, where did she come in? Raven was going to destroy their relationship, she had to end it all.

It hadn't been long since she had ended it with Garfield, this couldn't happen to her now. It was just a passing taste, a flutter, and it would go away, like a butterfly.

Did her heart so quickly forget about Beast Boy? She almost shook her head, her words still got stuck when she saw him and she wished that she would confess the truth to him., Give a better explanation of why she abandoned him, because she left him before he did and left him pained on the sidewalk, but it is different, it is that kind of affection accompanied by bad memories, the one that asks for an apology and demands it.

With Damian it's different, it was stupid of him ...

She couldn't help but feel terrible. She felt like a bad person, wanting a friend was the worst thing that could happen to her. She had seen him for years as her best friend, they helped each other when they collapsed due to some circumstance and boy, they had., They talked about books and movies, they could sit down; share a tea and chat about a period of history. With Damian and she would respond with the same interest.

Random, she was going to ruin everything.

Don't feel, she told himself. Don't start, if you do you will want more. You are not that kind of girl.

He deserved a young daughter from a wealthy family, a Gotham princess, and even a model. If they didn't notice her best friend because of his attractiveness, they would because of what he represents. She heard that such powerful family practice was usual (like a novel), although she couldn't imagine Bruce Wayne agreeing with that.

Raven was but a half-breed, half human and demon; someone who was unaware of many terrestrial customs, an anonymous name that was forged from the depths of hell. An abomination, a protégé, destruction and the girl who became a hero hidden under a hood.

A strange sensation invaded her body, as if someone or something was watching her. The air was a mix of pink and green, which she had seen in few people; It is not a secret that Raven can see the aura, they would normally be tinted red, yellow, blue, purple to gold, but green was difficult to find.

She had only seen this shade of green on one person.

"Blessed chance."

She looked up, suppressing a shiver. Out of sheer inertia the book slid forward, almost ripped it from her fingers, and a chill ran through her entire spine, like a fleeting fire; appeared and left instantly.

What was he doing here?

If it wasn't for the voice, she wouldn't recognize him. Damian Wayne stood next to her with dark glasses over his eyes, a thin white scarf with black patterns, and his usual black t-shirt folded neatly to the elbows.

Titus appeared with his tongue sticking out, apparently tired and when he became aware of her presence, he approached flapping his tail. She smiled at the emotion of the dog and stroked him, he licked her hand up to her arm.

He sat down in a chair in front of her. She was surprised to see him leave the tower, since the drama on social networks he had not wanted to pronounce on anything with any of his identities.

Batman, the Justice League, and the Titans suggested solutions, from official statements to videos giving their reasons, but he dismissed it with one hand and focused on training. He didn't do any more, locked himself in and improved his techniques (in her opinion, he didn't need it), now he was he, in front of her showing most of his face.

Maybe Damian got tired, he was an active person, she was pretty sure that in the time they met didn't see a single day of laziness, he kept his hands busy; When he was not on patrol, he trained, when he did not train, he devoted himself to research, or he cleaned the room, sharpened his weapons, or contacted Wayne Manor asking for an update on the events there.

"You must keep an eye on your enemies as well as your allies"

"We are talking about your family, Damian" she replied.

"It does not matter"

She raised an eyebrow "I would ask you about the scarf, but I don't want to insult your taste."

"This scarf is made to make me invisible to the cameras."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Damian wouldn't appreciate laughter at his expense but she found it funny.

"Like a superpower?"

He rolled his eyes.

"It was designed by ..." He looked at the table, more specifically at the book interrupting what he was going to say. His eyes traveled from the object to Raven, as if trying to square two different things in a single scene and she never wanted to take it out of her bag. "It's from an online store” he corrected himself. " Now his voice was much more comfortable. "Many celebrities use it to make it impossible for paparazzi to take photos. "

She thought about it.

People had calmed down a bit, basically because Robin disappeared assigning missions in remote places, what surprised her most was that he did not protest. At first she had believed that negativity did not affect him, that he would turn off all opinions and focus on himself, but Damian had acted like a wounded animal, every time a camera pointed at his face he transformed into a more sullen version., He bit with his words when talking about his reputation and he left the Titans to be seen only in short periods of the day.

She had not seen him in a week.

"I didn't know you knew this place."

For a long time, she thought that Riva street was hers. It is not a crowded place, when you compete against luxury shops, festivals and fairs, a cobbled street taken from an old movie is not a great novelty.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Grayson said they wouldn't harass me here."

"Dick?"

Shrugged.

His shoulders had widened, and his muscles were protruding under the thin fabric, she was jealous that the material would embrace him highlighting the perfection of his body. His tanned skin darkened over the years from exposure to unprotected sunlight, he was strong, and he was acquiring new scars.

She looked at his hands, a collection of scars like silver threads running through his fingers, one of them going through his wrists. She wanted to know what had happened, to ask if it was hurting from the cold and if it really led the other way.

It was like a faded flower imprinted on his skin. A scar is a patch of skin that grows on a wound, insensitive to touch, but would he feel anything if she touched it?

Do not start.

"He named this street." Damian didn't seem very impressed, although his expressions are difficult to read. At first she found this frustrating, it reminded her of Batman's aura, a cloud that could not fade to see the true color, but his son was a green color like his eyes, but his exterior had been sculpted based on hard training, emotional manipulation, control and pain. The green is dull now, like dried moss. “He promised me that no one would bother me.”

She looked at the scarf.

"So that's just as a precaution and ... "

She was interrupted by the waiter carrying her coffee, a donut dusted in sugar and the house specialty, some delicious focaccias. She felt the tug of hunger in her stomach as the smell of olive and spices reached her nose.

Damian frowned.

"What? " She took a sip of the coffee; the drink was at its perfect point. The Costa restaurant is small, rustic with that stone façade and the chairs made of hand-carved wood; she felt the urge to defend it. "Yes, it is…"

"I didn't say anything." He grimaced. He would say it "I was just wondering why you were so quiet and serious in the Tower, while here you show more emotion to that donut than to the Titans,” he said.

He put the coffee aside.

He was right.

"You too have been silent."

Damian crossed his arms supporting his back. Titus played around a fountain, drinking the water and letting some children caress him, from here she felt the laughter and affectionate names that were dedicated to him and the animal bathed with love, its owner almost smiled. Almost.

Right now, he looks like he's getting his weapons ready for battle, his expression was determined and wild, and he must ...

"Is it because of Garfield?"

She steps back, and a bucket of cold water falls on her body.

"What? "

Uncertainty passed over her face and hardened her.

Why was he doing this? Raven sees a feeling, believes her powers have touched him, and would go deep, but instantly he blocks it entirely, his emotions and feelings painted under a dark canvas. He left her blind, only believing that her had the confidence to reveal a portion of himself.

She was surprised that he named her former partner, since he did not express interest in their relationship. Damian was non-sentimental; He would probably scoff at the honeyed explanations his older brother so badly wanted to get into his head; Jason would have a dirtier one, full of inordinate sex and add treason to it, just for the drama; Tim would give a talk about the chemical processes that were triggered when someone liked you, but he was not interested, he saw it as a necessity, a small distraction in his eternal crusade.

"Did you finish?"

As if that would explain everything, but what if it did? After the breakup with Garfield, she plunged into meditation, turning off her father's voice, but it followed her everywhere, repeating what she really was.

She became like thorns. If someone got close enough, they would only get a prick, there were no flowers in the first season or leaves in the summer, so she kept herself alone and promised that she would not be touched.

Garfield's face turned into punishment, if only she hadn't hurt him. It was too late, she is alert when he is close and knows why.

She really understood it.

Damian looked her in the eye. "I know it was a difficult breakup."

She looked down.

"It was. "

She did not lie, there was no need. Her affirmation was like a consolation, she just needed to let him go.

"I'm sorry. "

She raised her head. She never heard Gotham's bat son apologize to anyone, those phrases were not in his mouth, his tone was soft, like calm after a storm.

She smiled.

They shared a long look. At first, he looked serious, despite not wearing his Robin mask it felt like an eye mask, hiding the true emotion reflected in his eyes.

Damian smiled.

A dimple left on his cheek, and wrinkles formed around his eyes, making them look smaller, his expression softened, as if he had never been through torment. It was unlike any other smile she had ever seen, it was not arrogant, nor of victory or conceit; This was not the trained assassin destined to turn the world into a dystopia, he was not the angry and vengeful boy struggling to find a place next to his father, emerging as Robin, he was not the son of a famous billionaire, nor the hero that everyone hated, but Damian. It was soft and beautiful.

The first time he saw a genuine Damian Wayne smile was on Riva Street.

So, she knew she made a mistake and would never see Riva Street the same way. This street had represented intimacy, the beginnings and ends of novels, the best coffee she had ever tasted, flavors that she had not tried before, reflections and the smile on someone's lips. He had become entangled in her soul, the memories lost relevance compared to this moment and a feeling of fear of loss settled in her stomach, like a blow.

The story ends. Now.

Raven's smile disappeared from her face.

***

Raven had come up the stairs when the sun was barely caressing the mountains, a blanket hanging from her shoulders, a steaming tea floating behind her, and a book under her arm.

The roof of the Tower of the Titans gave a general view of the city. The blowing of the wind was strong, charging from the north, the color-degraded sky and a handful of stars remained in the sky.

Seagulls flew around the construction, squawking as if announcing the start of the day. The air was frozen, like sticking her head into a refrigerator and her nose was kissed by the cold.

Years ago, she read here, with the tranquility and amazement at dawn. Normally, the tower was full of noise, screaming, and disorder, making it impossible to read and struggling to find solitude around seven quirky teens, plus an alien princess with a tendency to incinerate food and her boyfriend with a highly activated parental sense.

It was a strange combination, but it works.

She sat on the floor wrapping the blanket around her shoulders holding back a shiver, sipped a shot of green tea, and watched the sunrise, amazed by the colors.

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

The pad of her fingers caressed the illustration, noticing the relief and ink of the illustration of the egg sitting on a wall with little Alice watching.

"Do you think it will disappear if you don't take it?"

Damian sat still in Robin's uniform; his face shows cuts and the purple colors began to manifest in the high point of his left cheek.

"What happened? "

"Patrol. "

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Always so expressive.

She watched him "You look tired. "

He snorts, but doesn't contradict her, and that's a confirmation. Damian had been behind a gang of robbers, and was recently called by Batman while away for two weeks; Photos surfaced in magazines and on social media about the charity event bringing the family together in honor of Martha Wayne, without However, if Bruce Wayne summoned him it would not be solely for that, the vigilante was having to contain the Joker.

Raven knew that it required the whole family.

When Damian arrived, he was angry and spent all his time on patrol, so he was living with his brothers and he needed to get rid of the teasing, arguments and annoyance.

Three days later she has him in front of her with his legs trembling and sweat dripping down his forehead.

"You should sleep," she recommended.

He clicks his tongue and his chest rises and falls. "When I was seven years old, I was awake for four days, just feeding on the vegetation of the place and the river water. This is nothing to me. "

She imagines a child abandoned in the middle of the forest, hungry and starving. It doesn't seem like an achievement.

She grimaces.

"What? "

She chose not to express it. He could take it as a criticism, or get irritated., Damian is not known for his tolerance of others' arguments, especially when it comes to his past, and equally who is she to argue about his story?

"Nothing. "

She reread the book.

All the king's horses

And all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty

Together again.

"It's one of my favorite rhymes," he declares sleepily.

Raven grimaces.

He is looking at her, his eyes struggle to close, and she can see the struggle to stay seated… If only he wasn't so proud.

An impulse makes its way inside her and she thinks of the teenager who gave her a book. The one who appeared on Riva Street accompanied by his pet, who spoke about poetry and rhymes when tiredness is about to knock him down. She takes off the mask, it is soft and almost feels like a mass in her hands, he protests, but he is are just babbling.

"I'm going to hit Drake and-" "He can't tell enough; his head falls and heshe straightens his brow several times. Raven almost smiled. "Father and… They almost kidnapped Grayson…" He tries to formulate a complete sentence, but the voice simply leaves him. Before he falls to the floor, she gently grabs his arm and helps him lie down on the floor and balls her blanket into a pillow. "I like rhymes. "

Laughter echoes off the roof.

"Are you always so chatty in the morning?"

He growls.

"I must have a poem around here." She opened the book.

It is right in there

Betwixt and between

The orchard bare

And the orchard green,

When the boughs are right

In a flowery burst

Of pink and white,

That we fear the worst.

She took a breath to read the next paragraph when she was interrupted.

"Peril of Hope. Robert Frost. "

A memory greets her after years. When the world was almost over and her father had been inserted into the glass, she felt his stench emanating from that smallness, his power and evil in her palm, she could not be careless and silly like the last time; the world did not deserve destruction and her friends almost died, she agreed to stay in hell to protect them, but he convinced her as best he could, citing poetry by Robert Frost.

"You are full of surprises."

That permanent frown disappeared, and he buried his face in the blanket, closing his eyes.

She plunged into uncertainty for a few minutes.

She watched him sleep, muttering that she is not that girl and she would not fall so easily.

She drank her tea in one gulp.

He woke up an hour later, muttering and staggering to his room, he didn't go out all day.

Raven devoted herself to meditation, while Starfire and Dick trained together.

She could feel eyes from the other side of the room, even without opening her eyes she knew who it was. From a few meters she identified that aura and presence, the colors of his soul were a deep yellow like sand.

Garfield watched her apprehensively, as if aware of an unknown detail.

Her insides twisted like a worm, wanting to take his eyes off her. She just wants to push him away.

***

The next morning Robin appears on the roof, the next and subsequent.

Damian was there, she would have a new book waiting and she would feel that it became her new religion; They were like little children who shook their shoulders and tried to learn something new.

They don't talk much.

Raven drank her tea bathed in the rising rays of the sun behind the mountains, the wind would blow her hair in different directions and she would be covered by her thick blanket. She absorbed the silence when she watched him read Walt Whitman, Charles Dickens and Herman Melville after a night patrol where he hid from the eyes of the people.

No one has seen Damian Wayne in a month.

Robin is a vigilante who takes refuge in smoke and on missions with the Titans, would participate and walk away.

’’ Doesn't it bother you? ’” She asked one day pushed by bravery. Since the cancellation he was reserved, fleeing from the great masses and behaving like an invisible entity.

He didn't look up from his reading. "What are you talking about?"

’’ The hatred of people on the internet ’’

He frowned, processing her words. "The opinions of the despicable sheep are not worth it."

"You should print it on a card."

He smiled ‘’ ’I'm not an influencer, not a celebrity, Raven. I am a vigilante and did not need third party validation… I would just like to have privacy ’’

Raven understood that.

***

That morning it felt strange, like when you have a lump in your throat that is about to give way.

Damian had not returned for three days as he was on a mission with his brothers. Therefore, there were no conversations on the roof, books and herbal tea, lunches on Riva street and she realized how much she missed him. They did not spend all day together, she did not think about him for more than an hour, but she settled into her routine with those small and significant moments, they were pieces of her days that won against vacillations.

She was longing for more.

No one had to know.

In front of the Titans, two colleagues behaved as common as ever; there was a tacit agreement of silence between them. She discovered that she liked it that way. That she wanted that privacy, she said nothing, but she knew that for Damian's public life it is complicated that whatever they had was captured by a camera and exposed, stabbing the secret. Raven did not want to meet her face in teen magazines, or that they speculated around who she is, if she valued anything in her civil identity, it gave her a sense of normality.

Raven was terrified; her father's voice followed her every morning as she made her tea in the kitchen before going up to the roof. He brought back memories of her previous relationship, distant and sad green eyes, which made her feel so good she wouldn't have to tear him apart. With each fight she had a reason to leave Garfield and there were many, and she didn't want him anymore.

She knew he would never do anything to hurt her, she knew his heart and his intentions, but love can make you see roses instead of thorns. She only knew love in poems, books and performances, they said that love is a brilliant thing, but it is ardent. She always tried to see herself through the eyes of another person, it made her feel less dirty and that there was this story where after suffering there is a person waiting, with her heart in one hand and a smile painted on her face, like a pink brushstroke.

Maybe it only works on humans.

Now she thought that love was a golden cage, that makes you feel that you live in luxury and have all the comforts of the world, but you cannot go out without a fight, without facing the person who made you forget about yourself.

Her father was no longer using insults to destabilize her, he became crueler bringing memories that she was fighting to bury. It led her to the frustration, heartbreak, and anger she felt after the discussions, her mind formulating justifications and judgments, and her breakup.

Standing in the kitchen praying because she was doing well, not regretting and avoiding remembering this as a big one: what if?

She knew that it was her father taking advantage of her fear, but she could not help thinking that it was much better to look the truth in the eyes and that part of her is happy that Damian is not there.

She hoped that it would take him long enough to forget his smile, burn his presence on Riva Street and go up to the roof watching the sunset reading in silence, without feeling that something is missing. She felt he was getting under her skin, between the cuts of her past with something she has not known and does not know how to fight it; Damian takes what he wants, his defense mechanisms react in time.

She expects him to stay away days, weeks, months, and even years.

I am the only thing you have, ungrateful girl. I'm the only one who stays.

She growled and murmured a quick spell, dulling his voice.

She realized that she doesn't just want to have her father as her company, she still has friends who show her love, and they don't care about her love life just because of her condition. That thought brings her peace.

Raven lit the kettle. It is still night when she creeps into the kitchen in her pajamas, and the thin blanket around her shoulders like a makeshift cloak; she needed a tea to fully wake up, she still felt the tiredness in her body and her eyes closed when she leaned on the table.

She was ready to watch the sunrise alone and considered going back to sleep. With or without Damian it had become a habit, it was her, what did she gain by clinging as if he were an extension? She was sure that Damian would not like someone to consider him that way, she was also finished with that topic. She was better alone.

Someone cleared his throat.

She felt hesitation and fear. She turned, watching Garfield stand at the kitchen door, hesitating instead, as if fighting to run away or stay.

A heart beats.

It is like rereading a book with an unhappy ending, she had seen this a million times. She had already given up, but he came back every time she was healing and would be weak to fall under his love, as if that would fill her, even so, she felt that the end point had already been written.

She filled her cup with hot water "I left you the rest of the water, if you want. "

"Raven," Garfield scratches his hair, unsure. His head was down. "Can we talk? "

She shook your head.

"I woke up at five in the morning with a purpose." His eyes are marked by dark circles and puffy from lack of sleep. She gives in (just a little). "It will be a moment. "

The young woman sat down at the table holding her breath. Her hands traveled to the cup embracing the warmth, and she begged all the gods and spirits of Azarath not to end up in the same place as a month ago.

Aisha, the spinning spirit of Azarath's love and suffering is laughing at her. The monks illustrated her as a lonely old woman who lives in the high mountains, where the sun always shines, pulling the strings of love from mortals and immortals. She is temperamental, if she thought you were good, she could entangle your thread of love with others the easy way, her fingers would do the braid with details, but if she decided that you didn't deserve it, then she would make a tangle between love and suffering, condemning another innocent person; her tutors were afraid of her, they thought they had to atone for any offense against the spirit. She thinks Aisha hates her.

She remained silent, and inert.

The silence is uncomfortable, it keeps and brings conversations, memories and secrets.

"I'm sorry. "

He Frowned.

Raven raised an eyebrow, still surprised by what heshe was saying. On more than one occasion she imagined that at some point he would apologize, but she did not expect his voice to break, to feel the pain reflecting on his face.

She did not know what to say. She was never good at sharing her feelings.

He probably already knew that.

"I was a terrible boyfriend," he said. She is empathetic so she feels his conflicting emotions, but one of them predominates more than the others: Guilt. "You didn't deserve it."

She is about to speak, but he interrupts her with his hands up: "Let me finish, please" He keeps his eyes down. Her hands play with a napkin, folding and spreading the paper. "I wasted what we had. Don't think I didn't love you, in fact I did. I wish I could have loved you better. " He shrugs "I hurt you. "

She grimaced.

Beast Boy pursed his lips "Now you keep your guard high when I'm around you and I know why. I'm sorry for so many things and I understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me" His hands tremble. "Before we were dating, we were friends and I didn't think about you. I just want you to know that I come back to those mornings every day and I feel horrible about how I behaved. You didn't deserve everything I threw at you when you tried, the arguments, I ignored you for days to come back to your door asking for a chance and you forgave me. I really understand yes ... "

Before we were dating, we were friends ...

I'm the only thing you have, ungrateful girl.

She takes his hand, this time there are no artificial lights or contempt "I forgive you. "

Raven really says it. She does not want to live alone having her father as a constant, it would be a sad constant and now he is angry, insulting her and screaming because she is weak, gullible and stupid, yet she smiles.

He opens and closes his mouth, surprised "Really? "

She nods "It's not like I have any other choice, we live in the same place. "

Garfield laughs and exhales a big breath, touches his chest feeling his heart and snorts "God, I thought you were going to hate me. Maybe you would curse me for all eternity. "

She rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I will…"

"Let's be friends again!" He dances around the kitchen, ignoring her words. He turns to yellow and white again. "It's cool, baby. "

Raven stands up, deciding it's too much. She embraced the book and used her powers to make the cup levitate with her footsteps.

"You are so loud."

He is smiling.

She walks to the kitchen door to watch the sunrise, but he knocks on it and she turns around.

"What wrong? "

“You deserve someone who reads Shakespeare or something like that with you and kisses the ground where you step," Garfield smiles. "You may be half demon and your father is a monster, but not everything has to be suffering. Love is not pain, Rae. "

Again, she doesn't know what to say or do, so she nods.

When she leaves the kitchen, she realizes that the lump in her throat that she has been holding since she got up, no longer exists. She feels light, like dropping a load and all the bumps, cuts and infections are healing.

She still has her struggles but abandoning one she did not collapse. Sometimes getting rid of one makes the bag not explode.

She needed that talk.

She needed to let it go completely.

As she climbs the stairs to the roof, she feels the rays of the sun entering from the open door, the light wind on her face and the squawk of seagulls, agitated in the sky that is a beautiful combination of pinks, blues and golds.

Her steps are delicate, like the fall of a feather and she thinks of the crow as more than a bird that predicts tragedies, or its black feathers the consequence of the wrath of a god.

When she opens the door, she holds her breath. Sitting on the floor writing on a pad is Damian, dressed in his civilian clothes and a bruise above his eyebrow, he carries a coffee and frowns every time he sips his drink.

His hands are quick on the sheet of paper.

She didn't know he would be here; thought he’d be away for a couple more days.

"You are late. "

She does not answer.

"Selina had a daughter."

She raises her eyebrows.

"I thought your father had more than one girlfriend." Damian looks up for the first time. He frowns. "You know, Playboy. "

So, it wasn't just a mission with his brothers, the Bat family just got bigger. Honestly, she thought the world couldn't take another Wayne, but she was wrong.

He does not say anything.

Raven sits on the ground next to him, keeping her distance.

"How are you with the arrival of the new member? "

"Good. "

Oh.

"Congratulations. "

They remain silent and she thinks that is all the information that she is going to be able to obtain from Damian. She opens her poetry book right where she leaves the separator, which consists of a withered sheet.

"My father is happy, even if he doesn't say it" He continues writing, only this time it is slower. The pen in his hand runs smoothly, as if reflecting. "I thought Selina would be a strumpet, that she would give him carnal relief and then leave, but my father seems… comfortable. Dick says it makes him less intense. "

Dick.

For Azarath, Dick must be overflowing with joy.

"How is she? "

Damian grimaces.

"Pink. "

She laughs "Yes, I suppose all the babies at the beginning are. "

"Helena is small, like really small, so much so that my father fears that she will break if one of us carries her." When she is not crying, she is sleeping or eating" he pauses. "Selina says the first few months will be like this. "

She Smiled.

"What? " He asks defensively.

"You like her. "

He rolled his eyes.

"To be honest, my chips were on the end of their relationship, but she stayed." He shrugs. Damian makes it look like an unlikely result in an equation. "Drake and Grayson won. I suppose I are well. I can do nothing but endure. "

Raven laughs.

"It's not funny." His tone is not angry, he doesn't turn that red warning tone and she knows that everything is fine.

She looks down at the book and takes a sip of her tea.

She looked at Damian, who continued writing in his notebook; The sun's rays bathed his face, his skin is tan, and his green eyes roam the notebook, concentrating on whatever he wants to capture.

She closes your eyes and feels the taste of herbs in the mouth.

She feels his shoulders collide with her, it's a warm and dangerous pressure. Each of her molecules asks for more, and she shouldn't be allowing this, but she doesn't pull away, nor does she stop her heart from running wild.

No one has heard from Robin in two months and the internet is focused on the following drama.

Damian Wayne allows himself to be photographed, but the paparazzi are not interested in selling photos of a scarf to the big gossip magazines, so they disappear little by little.

Raven left a relationship behind and hesitantly asks: What is it about him here?

It is at this moment that he realizes that, if she bleeds, he would be the last to know.

#damirae #fanfiction #damian x raven #damian wayne #raven #dc animated universe

82 notes · View notes