#but grateful for what we were given and hoping richard will find his way back to skeldale in the future! ❤️

[supes9]

It's a foreign language to me, baby

But I love hearing you talk...

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!dad Bruce Day 7-Fashion Show

Marinette laughed as she linked arms with Alix and hurried out of school. Today, the girls had arranged to go out for the evening, and they were insistent that nothing would ruin their fun, even an akuma. As the shorter girls hurried away, Alya watched from where she stood on the steps. When she had transferred, she had hoped that the girl she had made a connection with would become her best friend. Now, as they neared the end of April, she had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t part of the other’s inner circle.

Although she was friendly with the entire class, Marinette had quickly proven to be hard to get close to. She had her life out of school, and she had her life in school. They didn’t mix.

Unknown to the rest of the school, Marinette’s birthday was coming up. Every year, she would do something small with Tom and Sabine. Sometimes she would invite a friend over. Mostly, she kept her birthday quiet. The teen knew that if she offered, her class would love to celebrate with her, but she didn’t see it as a big deal. three years earlier, Bruce had asked her if she wanted to do anything for her birthday. When she had mentioned that she didn’t really celebrate it that much, he had nodded in acceptance. Each year, he flew into Paris and took her out for a day of shopping, an amusement park, or a fancy dinner. This year, he had invited her to join him in Gotham so that her brothers could come along. Since the event earlier in the month, Bruce had been more at ease when talking about many of the things going on in his home city. Now that he knew that Marinette was already entrenched in the hero life that he had been working so hard to keep her out of, he had opened up about the times that the family had vanished during her visits.

When Marinette had eagerly agreed to join him in Gotham, Bruce had asked his daughter of she had any preferences on what they did. The girl, as expected, shook her head and told him to surprise her. As long as they were together, it didn’t really matter. Imagine her surprise, when she got home from her late-night movie with Alix, to find her parents waiting for her, both buzzing in excitement.

“Mariette! Oh good, we were afraid that you would be out later. Bruce got in contact with us, he is going to fly you our for the entire weekend, instead of just one day!” While the bakers continued to gush about how wonderful it was for Bruce to fly Marinette out for her birthday, the girl paused. Usually, as much as she enjoyed her brothers, they were very upfront with her. When she had asked if they knew what Bruce was planning, they had been cagey. Now, he was flying her out on a Thursday, and bringing her back on a Tuesday? That was a long time considering she still had school.

Later that week as she packed her carry on, the noirette crinkled her nose in concentration. She had been doing the best she could to figure out what it could be, but she still had found nothing on their plans for the next few days. Once she had finished, she plopped the bag next to her suitcase. Whatever her family had planned, she could only hope that she was ready for it.

The next day at school, Marinette rolled her eyes as Alya started to chatter at her. The girl was nice, yes, but Marinette had seen what had happened when she had started to zero in on information. Alya was not likely to let anything go, which sadly, meant that for the sake of her secret identity, Marinette had t keep her distance. When Nino plopped into his seat in front of her, he turned to flash Marinette a grin. “you ready for your trip, dudette?” Marinette smiled in return,

“So ready! I finished packing last night, so Maman is going to pick me up at noon. That makes sure I have a little under four hours to get on my plane.” Nino nodded in understanding.

“International travel is nothing to mess with. You may be joined by Chloe; she is flying out to visit her mother. Where are you flying into?”

“New York! They said that they would meet me there, and that we would head back after whatever surprise they’ve been planning.” Nino snickered at his friend’s frustration. It was well known within their friend group that the girl liked to know what was going on so that she could plan accordingly. The last time they had tried to surprise her, Kim had ended up with a broken arm, and Alix had gotten enough blackmail to last a lifetime. It was also pretty common for the girl to refer to her family in vague terms. As much as she trusted her friends, her class was more than willing to dig into her personal life in an attempt to force friendship. Because of this, Marinette tried to keep her personal life a vague as possible. In situations like this, she was grateful that Nino understood what she meant, because Alya had caught onto their conversation and started to ask as many questions as she could. Thankfully, Chloe must have gotten the notice from Nino to rescue her, because the blonde swaggered into the room and made a beeline for the duo’s desk.

“So, Mari trash, what this I hear about you leaving the country?” while Alya bristled at the name that the heiress had thrown out, Marinette sent her friend a secret smile. Chloe sent her a nod before returning to riling up Alya until Madame Bustier made her way in, effectively shutting down all conversations.

The girls giggled as they hurried through the airport. When they had realized that they were on the same flight, they had agreed to meet up at the airport and wait out the extra time together. As the duo sat there, they chatted and traded pictures, and discussed fashion. When Chloe mentioned that her mother was taking her to meet a ‘rich client who she wont name. Ridiculous!’ Marinette paused. “Chloe, that’s not the only reason that your flying out, right?” the blond gave an undignified snot.

“Honestly Mari, I wish! She’s dragging me to her ‘secret fashion show for the ages’ as she calls it.” Soon the girls were giggling and discussing the latest trends. When the flight attendants called for first class, the two girls gather their bags and made their way over to the line that was forming. When they had gotten settled (conveniently next to each other, which spoke of manipulation to Marinette, although she refrained from mentioning it to the diva next to her), they each pulled out a book and got ready for their flight. Thankfully, they both made the transatlantic flights enough to know what to expect.

 That evening, when they arrived, the girls hurried to get through security and collect their bags. As they exited the baggage claim, both girls started to scan for their rides. On one side of the airport, was Audrey Bourgeois’ personal assistant. Next to her stood the stately figure of Alfred Pennyworth. While Marinette threw herself at Alfred in a hug, Chloe nodded to the frazzled looking brunette who had greeted them. The girls hugged and parted ways, promising to meet up on Monday if they didn’t see each other before hand.

While Chloe settled in her mother’s penthouse, Marinette was buried in a pile of hugs from her brothers. When they had finally given her room to breathe, her father introduced her to a girl who had been standing nearby. Cassandra (her sister!!) smiled at her and waved shyly. Marinette had sent her a smile worthy of the sun and given the girl a hug in return.

The next morning, the two girls were the first to join Alfred in the kitchen. Was Marinette caught Alfred up on the last few months, she started to help him with breakfast. Cassandra (Cass, Marinette scolded herself) settled on a stool to watch her move through the kitchen with a fluidity that spoke of many, many hours of experience. Once Bruce and they boys had joined them, the group settled at the dining table.

When the food had been cleared up, Marinette turned to her father, “you know, you made it really hard to pack for this trip, when I had no idea what we are going to do!” Bruce smiled at her ire and easily brushed aside her worries.

“it’s a good thing that we’re going shopping then, isn’t it, Marinette?” the way the girls face lit up made Tim snort.

“B, you really shouldn’t have said that, now she’s not going to sit still for the rest of the day.” The teen made a face at the look sent his way and Marinette huffed at her older brother.

“At least I know how to dress myself nicely without having someone pick my clothes out for me!” Dick sniggered at her response before wincing as she directed her fury his way. “don’t think I’m ignoring you, Richard.” The man froze, because his sister had used his first name only once and that occasion was not to be brought up unless the world was ending. “your fashion choices are even worse than Dad’s!” As the family started to argue about the validity of her statements, Marinette slipped away, beckoning for Cassandra (Cass!) to follow her.

Once they were in Marinette’s temporary room, the girl handed her sister (!!) a small wrapped package. “Tim gave me a heads up that there was a new addition to the family, and I wanted to make something for you.” The other girl studied her for a moment before hesitantly ripping the paper. Inside was a small journal that was leather bound and had the name Cass written in an elegant script (A/N Cass is probably the character that I am the least familiar with the origin of. That said, I’m going to run off the assumption that she is learning to read when she is brought to join n the Wayne family. If I am wrong, lmk, for now, this is what we are vibing with). The quiet girl gave Marinette a tentative hug as a thank you before Tim knocked on the doorframe.

“Time to go, ladies. Your chariot awaits.” Marinate rolled her eyes at their brother while throwing a pair of balled up socks at him.

“We’re coming, boy genius. Be fearful though, this is the start of an alliance. Soon, maybe ill be able to finally compete against you boys on game night without rigging the games!” Tim spluttered at her declaration as she strode past him. He huffed and hurried after the girls, bemoaning Bruce for making this trip a ‘family affair’.

Three hours later, Tim and Dick were each carrying handfuls of shopping bags, as the family of five re-entered their temporary living space. The girls were walking together, Marinette explaining some of her ideas for different designs. Alfred smiled at them as they all stood talking together, until an unfamiliar ringtone broke the low ambiance. The brothers looked at each other in confusion, while Bruce raised an eye at his youngest daughter. The girl flushed in embarrassment and dug into her purse for a long moment before pulling out a phone that was very obviously not her own. “hey! Is everything ok?” her immediate switch to French made the others pause and zero in on her conversation. “Oh, you caught it. How much damage was there?” A pause and then, “do I need to- I know I’m supposed to be on vacation but- oh fine! Leave it on my balcony in the jar, ill take care of as soon as I can.” A beat, and the girl made a face at whatever the person on the other end of the phone said. “stay safe, and call me if you need me, yeah?” once she had hung up, the girl turned back to them with a raised eyebrow. “what? Are you saying you don’t have a second phone for emergencies?”

The next day, Saturday, was a whirlwind, as Alfred got everyone up and moving by7 am. When asked what was going on by Marinette, the butler simply smiled and moved to lure Dick out of bed. When the family was once again gathered around the breakfast table, Marinette turned to her father and demanded an explanation at the reason for a wakeup call before what she considered ‘reasonable hours’. The man smiled in return, “Today, Marinette, we are going to celebrate your birthday. As promised, this year, the entire fairly will be able to join in.” the girl protested at his declaration.

“what was yesterday? I thought that was us celebrating my birthday without going overboard!” Dick laughed at her shock before jumping into the conversation.

“well, Net, yesterday was part one. Today is part two…and the part that we think you’ll like the most.” At her confusion, Tim leaned over from his spot across the dining table, pushing a stack of six tickets towards her,

“were going to Audrey Bourgeois’ secret fashion show.” The screech that came from the youngest in the family was well worth the suspense.

As the family approached the hidden venue, Marinette felt excitement bubble up once again. She had spent the day making sure that the entire family was dressed appropriately for the event. Somehow, Bruce had managed to buy a dress on the sly for her, after catching her gazing longingly at it for the duration of their time in the shop. As for the others, for the most part, they had the necessary pieces to put together a look that would be presentable at the secret show. The door was opened once they had handed over their tickets, and the Wayne family were handed a stack of passes that they hurriedly settled around their necks as they were show their way to their seats.

When the catwalk lit up, Marinette sat there, frozen, anticipating the beginning of the show. The lights blacked out, and a spotlight followed the first model on her way towards the middle of the room. Marinette’s breath caught in shock at the beauty of the coat that was trailing down the runway. As the next model made his way out, Marinette lost herself in the world of fashion.

 After, Bruce turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow, “so…was this too over the top for your birthday?” the 14-year-old smiled at her father.

“no,” she breathed, “it was perfect”

whew! that was a long one! obviously, this one is not compleate, but it’s other half is going to be coming soon! any feedback is more than welcome, im going to try to keep these a little longer if i can...

also, what did y’all think of Alya? i’m not her biggest fan, but didnt want to make her a villian? 

[dramatic-squirrel]

Damianette December Day 9- book

It may be confusing when the boys are speaking English and when they’re speaking French but, generally, they are speaking English unless they are addressing Marinette directly.

@daminette-december2019-2020

Considering how awful it had gone the last time the class had done this, it was surprising that Ms. Bustier’s class was once again at the Grand Paris to try the various jobs around the hotel. True to her previous actions, Chloe still did her utmost to drag Marinette down, this time, she was stuck cleaning the lobby.

The joke was on Chloe though, because Marinette wasn’t so spoiled that she didn’t appreciate what janitors and cleaning maids did. It was just cleaning, not like it was going to hurt her.

As she was vacuuming the couch, she found something between the cushions, a book. “Hey Tikki, what do you think this is?” she opened it up a bit and saw a sketch of a city skyline. The city was unfamiliar to her but it definitely helped her figure out that she was holding a sketchbook.

“D.a. G.W.,” that was the only thing that indicated who it might belong to. “Should we give this to the front desk, right Tikki? It’s probably a hotel guest’s if it was in the lobby, they’d probably be able to find them based on the initials or at least hold it until they came back.” She looked back to where Chloe was sitting, filing her nails, and groaned slightly. “Or maybe we try to find them ourselves?”

“Marinette. You know the right thing to do here would be to give Chloe the sketchbook and leave it to the lobby clerk.” the kwami understood Marinette’s frustration but, was also dedicated to guiding her partner on the right path.

“Yeah, I know you’re right. I just wish you weren’t,” she made her way to the front desk. “Someone left this behind Chloe.”

The blond glanced at her. “And? What do you want me to do about it? Just throw that dirty book away and be done with it. Do your job properly, Dupain-Cheng.” That was about how well Marinette expected the conversation to go. Instead of talking back and making the situation worse, she held herself back, Chloe would just make some snide comment or complain to her father.

Turning around, she decided to finish the job she had been given and then asked Ms. Bustier if she could try to find the owner of the sketchbook. As someone who frequently used one herself, she knew how important sketchbooks were to an artist, and based on the details of the first sketch she saw, the owner of the book was definitely an artist.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“It’s great that you got permission Marinette.”

“It is Tikki. Now we just need to get Chloe away from the computer. Luckily she’s easy to read.” Marinette walked up to the lobby desk again after she was sure the Lobby Clerk was still gone. “Hey, Chloe. Did you see all of those fans fawning over Adrien on the Hotel’s rooftop. He’s practically surrounded by them.” Rage instantly filled Chloe’s face when she heard those words.

“No one’s allowed close to my Adrikins except me.” And voila, the front desk was missing one Chloe Bourgeois. Marinette slipped behind the desk, once Chloe was safely in the elevator and went to search up the guest in the database. 

She looked up last names beginning with W first, to see if any fit the initials she found in the book. Unfortunately, she was out of luck there. On the bright side, it wasn’t a long list to go through, so she managed to finish quickly. 

It then occurred to her that perhaps, like her last name, this person also had two last names, so she looked through the names that began with A next. She still didn’t find anything. Checking the time, she noticed that Chloe might be back soon so she had to come up with a new plan.

“What if you looked for the person based on where they live?” It was Tikki’s suggestion. 

“That might work but, I don’t know where they’re from.”

“But, perhaps the sketchbook might give you some clues as to where they may be from. The cityscape at the beginning could be where this person lives, they may find inspiration from the things around them, kind of like you.”

“It’s worth a shot,” she hesitated a bit before she started turning the pages of the book. It felt kind of invasive to go through someone’s sketches without their permission but there was no telling if they would ever find their sketchbook otherwise.

“Oh, wow,” the pictures were genuinely breathtaking. It was like Tikki thought, most of the pictures were of a city, and based on the architecture, it seemed like it was the same city. A few pictures of animals appeared, and one of a fantasy creature but, mostly it was a city. 

It seemed that the owner liked to sketch more secluded or lesser-known spots since none of the places had any distinguishing features, especially none she could recognize, until she turned the page, and saw a building with the words “Wayne Enterprise” on the side of the building. There was no mistaking where that building was. “Gotham! Tikki, they’re from Gotham!”

She hurriedly looked up the location on the computer and saw a booking by a Richard Grayson for three rooms on the 5th floor. And they were still there, which was a relief because she wasn’t sure what she would do if they had left Paris already.

The name didn’t match the sketchbook, but it occurred to her just then, that perhaps the owner themselves didn’t make the booking and was traveling with friends or family. Slipping from behind the desk she made her way to the elevator just as it arrived. Out of it, Chloe dragging a reluctant Adrien exited. Adrien caught her eye and winked at her.

Being her superhero partner for the past 3 years, he knew when she was scheming something, and he knew just how to go along with her crazy plans. Sending him a grateful smile, she entered the elevator and made her way to the room number she had found.

Standing in front of the hotel room, she began to second guess herself. They might not even be there right now, or maybe she got the wrong room. Just as she was determined to leave and find one of the actual employees to take care of the situation, the door in front of her opened. She came face to face with a man, black hair and insanely blue eyes, who stared at her just as she stared at him.

“Oh god, Bruce found another one, didn’t he. Dick! Can you please tell Bruce to stop adopting children?” The man spoke in English so she couldn’t quite follow along with what he said only something about children and the fact that he was addressing someone else.

“Excuse me?” she hoped he understood French. “I found this sketchbook in the lobby and I think it might belong to someone staying in this hotel room.” The man’s eyes finally saw the book in her hands just as another almost identically looking man came to the door.

He seemed half asleep as he stood in the threshold holding a cup of coffee in his hand. “What’re going on about Jason. Bruce didn’t adopt anyone recently, Alfred already asked me to keep an eye on any adoption papers that might be processing with his name on it. I’d know if he was adopting someone.” the sleepy man’s eyes landed on her and the cup in his hand fell to the floor with a crash. “Shit. I didn’t think about foreign countries. I’ve got to go tell Alfred.”

The first man grabbed the other one before he could leave. “Relax, it was a false alarm, she’s just returning something for Damian.” He turned to her, “I’ll take it, I know who it belongs to.” Up to that point, Marinette didn’t quite get what was going on, but she was sure that she didn’t entirely trust these people. It was hard to follow their  English but their actions were weird.

“I’m sorry Monsieur, but I would feel more comfortable if I gave it to the actual owner of the book, instead of… his acquaintance.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to meet the brat. He’ll probably accuse you of stealing. It would be better to give it one of us to pass along.” The skepticism remained on her face. That was when a voice came from behind the two men in the doorway.

“Get out of the damn way, you morons. I can’t leave the room with you blocking the entrance.” 

The first man sighed in resignation when the voice came through and stepped aside. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped now. It’s this demon spawn’s sketchbook.” she turned to see the artist that she had been looking for.

He was about average height, although compared to the person who had initially opened the door, he was small. His skin was also more tanned than his acquaintances, and although they share the same black hair, his eyes were a brilliant green, more vibrant than even Adrien’s.

“Excuse me, Monsieur,” she called out to him. “I seemed to have found your sketchbook in the hotel lobby. Is this your book?” he stopped in his tracks when she started talking. 

Numbly, he nodded his head. Recognizing that he hadn’t properly answered, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. Yes, that’s my book.” his responses, while curt were far from insulting as the other man had suggested. Holding the book out to him, their fingers touched as he grabbed the book.

His touch was warm and gentle and it startled her enough that she accidentally let go of the book. Apparently, he was also startled for he too, let go of the sketchbook, and it fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to let go so soon,” Marinette bent down to pick up the book.

“It’s okay. I’m at fault as well.” He took the book from her outstretched hand. “Thank you, for finding my sketchbook and returning it to me.”

“No problem. I understand how devastating it might be to lose a sketchbook, I’m happy I could bring it back to you.” she smiled at him and then checked the watch she was wearing. It was almost time for her class to leave. “I need to head back but, it was wonderful meeting you.” she waved and turned around towards the elevator.

Damian stared at her back as she left. Only, when she had already been gone for a few minutes did he notice a book on the ground. Picking it up, he saw the name Marinette Dupain-Cheng written on the front, and, opening up the front page he saw that it was her sketchbook. 

It seemed that this time he was going to have to find her.

[peppersonironi]

How I Picture a Batfam Age Reversal

I’m going to write this as a fic (And I want to go on into a young justice world where dick forms the team and his siblings are protective) but here is the outline in bullet points in case anyone is interested. Please note this is VERY first draft.

Ages (At end) & Order:

Damian- 24

Duke- 21

Stephanie- 20

Tim- 21

Cassandra- 19

Jason- 19

Barbara- 15

Dick- 13

Damian is Ten when he is sent to live w/ his father. Bruce is 30.

They don’t really work well together at first. But Selina, Alfred, and Clark somehow get it through Bruce’s thick skull that he has to care for this child.

Damian keeps sneaking out on patrol, against B’s wishes. Eventually, he let’s Damian join and tells him to choose a name (Not what we meant, Bruce!)

Damian wants to go for something like Shadow, or Demon, but Bruce puts his foot down. He says that Damian shouldn’t try to be darkness.

Damian is pouting in the gardens when he finds a wounded robin. It’s wing is broken. He demands that the animal should be taken to a shelter, and carries it in his hand the whole way there.

The bird makes it, and Damian demands to be called Robin. He designs his suit, going slightly more colorful. “I might be called Robin, but I am NOT wearing brown, Pennyworth.”

Bruce introduces him to Superboy (Jon, note: less age dif) and the pair are close friends.

He is Robin for a little over seven years before he begins to fight with Bruce about being allowed to patrol alone, and being his own hero. (basically what happened w/ Dick).

Damian leaves Gotham, opting to claim Bludhaven. Jon joins him. He suggests they call each other Nightwing and Flamebird. Damian thinks it’s a bit childish, but he can’t say no to Jon. They’re costumes are here. (done by @hyperactive-lectiophile! Fantastic job!)

They eventually realize they’re in love w/ each other, all while trying to figure their lives  out. Damian briefly tries to join the police. He hates it. Eventually, he enrolls in BH college for a major in Art and a minor in business.

Later in Gotham, the We Are Robin/Robin War stuff happens. Long story short, Duke is adopted. 

Damian is angry to find out he has a new brother, goes to Gotham to yell at Bruce, but then meets Duke. They bond, and are close siblings. Damian makes his father promise to not adopt any more strays.

Stephanie Brown wants to stop her Father, so she sews up a costume and goes out as Batgirl. Bruce is apprehensive at first, but his family basically yells at him to train the poor girl before she gets hurt.

He does, and after Steph meets Damian, who she absolutely adores (He loves her too. The way she pisses his father off is legendary), Stephanie decides she wants to be Robin. Batgirl was good for dealing with her father, but she wants to belong to this new family, and, w/ Damian’s blessing, she makes a new costume.

Unfortunately, after a while, Stephanie is killed by Black Mask (her death is faked, like in the comics, but the Fam doesn’t know)

Enter Tim Drake. Batman has been going crazy over grief, and not even Nightwing, Catwoman (this is SOOOO batcat, btw) or The Signal can calm him down. Tim steps right up, and demands to be robin.

Damian and Bruce fight over this. Surprisingly, Damian is the one who thinks Tim should be given a chance. He sees how his father has been acting. Damian knows that Tim must be brilliant to figure out their identities, and thinks that should count for something. Duke takes his side, knowing that it takes guts to talk to batman, and be willing to join him. Bruce, meanwhile, is a constant chant of “no more dead robins”. After a while, and lots of arguing, Tim takes his place as Robin. They redesign the suit, and he takes his place as robin.

It’s little while after this that Stephanie comes back. Tim offers Robin back, but Stephanie declines. They talk and grow closer. At one point they talk about Stephanie’s new moniker. She says she doesn’t want to be Batgirl either. She wants something new. Tim suggests Spoiler (Bad pun turned brilliant idea?).

Cassandra Cain arrives on the scene next. She saves the commissioner’s life (like No Man’s Land, minus No Man’s Land), and Stephanie immediately imprints on this tiny assassin child (So do the rest of the family, but Steph claims the fourteen-year old first. She and Bruce fight over custody.). She offers Cass Batgirl. Gotham gained a new vigilante, and Bruce Wayne adopted a new child. (Faster than the comics, I KNOW. But Cass deserves happiness)

Everyone loves their new sister, and everyone spoils her. Duke is the one to take her to a ballet the first time. She immediately begs to be put into lessons.

Somewhere in here Tim’s mom dies and his dad is in a coma. Bruce takes him in.

Eventually, Bruce decides to offer Tim Red Robin, hoping to avoid the strife he had with Damian. (Like in the comics, Bruce was going to give Jason Red Robin)

Tim is unsure of this, and puts off deciding. Then little Jason Peter Todd decides to jack the tires of the batmobile and is immediately taken in.

Everyone is captivated by the tiniest addition to their family, but it's also at this time that Jack Drake finds out about Robin and forces Tim to quit. Tim gives Jason his blessing to become Robin.

Everyone pitches in on helping train the newest Robin. Damian teaches the kid things he learned from the league (non-lethal things, since Damian loves this kid), Duke teaches him escrima fighting, Stephanie (Much to Bruce’s dismay) has a full seminar of the delicacies of glitter bomb making. Tim teaches the kid hacking, when he can get away from his dad. 

Unfortunately, when Jason has been Robin for almost a year, he is killed by the Joker.

The family is torn apart by greif. But this time around, Bruce has a much larger support system. All of them lean on each other.

The only time that Damian ever broke his no-kill rule while living with his father was to kill the Joker. He hunted and murdered the clown, sparing Harley. He had been friends with Quinzel since he was Robin, and knew how the Joker treated her. Harley became the batfam’s honorary aunt after this.

Bruce was too emotionally tired to fight with Damian over his actions, so no one said anything. Eventually, Bruce and Damian did argue. Damian refused to apologize,, though he did promise his father to never kill again. Their relationship was strained for a while, but they worked through it.

Less than a year later, Jack Drake dies, and Tim comes back onto the vigilante scene. He refuses to become Robin, however, choosing to take Bruce up on his offer and become Red Robin. He designs his own suit, and the world seems to slowly become normal. Or some semblance of it.

One night, the circus is in town and the whole family (except Alfred) is home. Duke, Tim, and Steph drag Bruce, Cass, and Damian to go see it.

It is on this night that Dick Grayson’s parents fall to their death. Dick is sent to live in juvi, meanwhile Bruce tries to adopt Dick. He succeeds, and the manor once again has a bright young child running through it’s halls.

Dick figures out the secret identities of his family and instantly demands to be allowed out. He wants to take down Zucko, and won’t settle for every single member hunting for him. Dick wants to take down his parent’s murdered himself. He tries to sneak out multiple times, but is always stopped.

Damian talks to Dick (They are extremely close) and explains the origins of Robin. He says that the mantle was born out of a want to distance himself from the revenge and violence of the league. Dick cries when he learns this and says that his own parents used to call him Robin. He suggests that the mantle is more than a personal need. Robin is Family.

Damian almost immediately demands that Dick be trained and help catch Zucko. Bruce is confused, as before, Damian was strongly against letting a nine-year-old fight crime. Damian explains (after much cajoling. He might be more emotionally open and healthy than when he first arrived in the manor, but the kid is still constipated) what Dick had said, and that Damian understands the kid’s need for direction. “When I first came here, I needed Robin. I might not have known it, but I did. Richard needs Robin now, as well.”

The family took sides on the issue, but eventually Dick (with the aid of his puppy-dog-eyes™) won everyone over. He got his own Robin costume, and they caught Zucko.

Dick refused to stop being Robin, and so Gotham gained a new bird.

Dick was Robin for almost two years when The Red Hood made his appearance in Gotham. No one knew what he wanted, as he didn’t seem to do much beyond killing criminals. They thought he was a vigilante at first, but then he began to take over the criminal underbelly of Gotham, regulating crime. On top of that, Red Hood targeted Robin. Attacking the boy wonder when no one else was around. After the red helmeted rogue let loose a few hints about the league of shadows, Damian interrogated his mother, who explained the identity of The Red Hood, and how she had set him on Gotham.

As soon as the family figured out the newcomer’s identity, and the reason he was alive Damian tracked him down. He knew how to deal with pit rage from his childhood, and brought the lost bird back to the nest.

The family was whole for the first time in years. Jason was still angry and resentful, but he had his family back. Jason was grateful for Damian taking revenge for him, and they were once again close. 

Slowly, Jason let everyone back in, including Bruce. Dick is wary at first of this new older brother, but the little chicken nugget quickly warms up to Jason, and even convinces him to teach him how to shoot a gun (In secret, of course, Dami and Bruce would blow a gasket). Jason couldn’t resist the kid. It was physically impossible.

A year later, Cass decides to pursue dance as her career. She gets a job with the Hong Kong Ballet company. She moves there, and decides to take a new moniker: Black Bat. Her family is so proud of her, but they miss her dearly. Duke visits often, bringing new back to the family.

The absence of Batgirl is filled after a while by Barbara Gordan. She makes her own costume and starts going out. Once again, Stephanie Brown adopts a smol bean (Well, not legally. The commissioner is still alive) and outfits her with a more Gotham-friendly suit and weaponry (I.e. heavy kevlar and leather)

Babs is taken whole-heartedly into the fold, and is made an honorary sister.

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 20

Ah, now the truth shall be revealed! Time to show our cards and see where they will lay. So I actually wrote this chapter and the chapter to follow BEFORE I wrote the Kamoba battle chapter because I was overwhelmed trying to pack all of that information and detail into a chapter that read that way and not like the notes of a deranged lunatic from the inside of a padded cell. And writing this chapter and the one to follow flowed so nicely and it helped me keep the focus on the characters and their story lines and their arcs within a battle sequence and not get lost in the battle itself. Which was a struggle for me. Not going to lie. 

@punkhorse96​ and everyone else- enjoy.  

Blood For Gold 

Chapter 20

The moment all of you came down to breakfast and just before Gregori could announce the news of the case being dismissed from court, a messenger from Buckingham Palace arrived with a proclamation as all of you stood respectfully to receive it. 

“It is ordered by her Majesty Queen Dowager Anastasia Raymond, that all occupants of the Palace of Windsor are hereby requested to go to Buckingham Palace for an audience with the Queen Dowager, His Royal Highness, His Majesty the King, as well as Her Royal Highness Queen Alexandria as soon as possible.” He read aloud before you all immediately disbursed and practically ran back to your rooms to dress in your best attire that you had before you came back down. 

“Countess Audravienne Morrigan, you are requested to ride in the head carriage alone.” The messenger informed you as you looked anxiously at your family and Demsey who looked particularly anxious to have you leave his sight as you were only allowed to give him one last squeeze of his hand before the attendant escorted you away and into the royal coach of a carriage as you sat there, alone before you finally found you had the opportunity to read that damn journal as you opened it up and immediately started crying when you saw it was from Demsey two days prior. 

You barely noticed everyone else get loaded up into the various carriages behind you as once everyone was loaded up, the whole caravan travelled towards the palace as your heart reached out to Demsey as you resolved in yourself that no matter what would happen at Buckingham Palace, if you did not make Demsey yours by the end of the day, you felt like you would die. Finally, after all this time and pain and hurt, you found what you were looking for, a gentle man who would love you without reserve, be faithful and loyal to you without question or waiver. Who didn’t care if you were penniless, poor and destitute or had nobility or not. All he wanted was you and you would be giving everything you had to him, no matter how much or how little that was as you read through it before pressing it to your chest and wiping happy, grateful tears from your eyes as the knowledge of his love gave you so much peace and comfort and was exactly what you needed as you regained your composure as you only had time to write a single line in it- in answer to the pages upon pages of declaration of love. 

‘I love you too.’ 

Once at the palace you were taken out of the carriage and escorted into the audience room where the Queen Dowager and the King and Queen were seated on their thrones as the Queen Dowager’s Mage was seated nearby and on the other side of her was seated a second mage, a male one this time, as you handed the journal off and requested that it be put into Duke Demsey Voyambi’s hands and no one else’s before you entered the room and approached them. 

“Your Majesties,” you greeted respectfully as you bowed low. 

“It is a pleasure to see you again so soon, again, congratulations on your victory in the Kamoba battle yesterday Countess Morrigan or do you prefer the title of Sultana Saharazat?” The Queen Dowager greeted you formally. 

“Whichever you prefer to use your Majesty.” You answered. 

“Sultana Saharazat it is. Now, it has come to my attention that your correspondence has gone missing within the Royal Mail Service?” Dowager Queen Anastasia asked from her spot on the thrown that flanked her son’s, mirroring her daughter in law’s throne on the other side of the King. 

“Yes.” You confirmed. 

“If you will come forward and approach this table, I think you will find it has all been found and is hereby given back to you.” She offered as you obeyed and came forward as you noticed stacks of mail, organized by who sent what. So many letters from your parents, from your family, from your friends, especially Leumeni, he seemed to have written the most to you before you noticed your own letters that were meant to reach them, and none of them had been opened and they all looked as if they had been written only yesterday before you noticed more than just your mail was on the table, but letters from members of your own household to the Morrigans and Richard’s mistress, Myra as you noticed even more letters from Dr. Rickets to Gregori which was the most surprising to see along with letters from Richard to various members and masters at the Royal Mail Service there as well. 

“Unfortunately, all those letters that you see on the table, they are all duplicates of the originals, since the originals were all destroyed by fire. These are just humble recreations of what was lost. We have proof and solid evidence as you can see from the letters on the table, that there are some directed from Count Richard Morrigan to the members of the Royal Mail Service. That is the proof that it was his direction that all of your mail coming in or out to you personally was to be destroyed the moment it touched the hands of the mail sorters and messengers.” She explained as you picked up the letters in question and read them yourself. 

“Mage Bellfast, who is seated over there,” She continued as she gestured over to him as you looked over and nodded respectfully at him as he did the same to you. 

“He was ordered by my son Gregori, to recreate all of them and I asked him to come to me and deliver it all to me as evidence and proof. Your own personal correspondence to and from you personally was never opened but all other correspondence was to gather evidence. And the proof of such sabotage is as you can see, very sizable. I wanted to tell you personally that because this involved my family and the Royal Mail Service and because it exposed it’s corruption, I am the one who dismissed your case in the public and even the private court systems and I hope you can, one day, forgive me. But I insist on giving you justice myself and dealing with this matter personally because a grave sin has been made against you and I insist on doing everything in my power to set it right. And I will serve as judge and jury, for surely you know that even I, was once a moura bride just like you. And such a slight will never be tolerated again and such a case of corruption can never be allowed to happen again. And may I also offer my deepest and most sincere apologies to you for such grievances and I hope that you will allow me to make amends.” She offered as tears flooded your vision, while a mixture of emotions seemed to wage war within you, part of you was relieved, at least for Jane’s sake, another part of you wanted to expose Richard and Agnes Morrigan for the monsters that they were for all of England to see. But you were not going to refuse this help by any means. 

“Of course, thank you, your Majesty.” You thanked her as you did your best to wipe the grateful tears from your eyes as you saw that Demsey had even tried to write you a letter a few days before the ball, to warn you about who might be there and who would mean you harm. 

“Now, Mage Bellfast as well as my own Mage, Mage Altissia have found your scene catcher spell and if you will forgive them, but they found your passwords, but let me assure you that I, nor any of the royal family have seen what was behind those passwords, only that they were there and only with your explicit permission will such footage be shown or it can be destroyed upon your decree, but, for now, if you would hold off from making such a decision before this entire case is heard out, I have all parties coming to assemble to so that everything can be sorted out with everyone and once the air is clear and all the sins against you have been exposed, then justice will be dealt out accordingly. Now, as far as I can tell, this involves Gregori, Yalin and their family and the entire Morrigan family as well, along with Dr. Rickets and the post men who Richard has contacted. I also have Dr. Chu and his wife, who is practically a doctor herself here along with five other physicians to serve as their own jurors along with stable masters from Dorierra to change your classification. And with your permission, I would like to call them some of them in now.” Anastasia offered. 

“Yes of course,” you agreed. 

“Call in, the physician-, Dr. Rickets and the post men, the entire Morrigan family as well as my son Gregori and his family along with Sultana Saharazat’s family in, at this time.” Queen Dowager Anastasia commanded before they came in, all at once from different doors around the room since they all had been waiting in different rooms attached to the main audience room so as not to cause a stir outside of it.

“You bitch!” Agnes screamed as the moment the side door was open and she saw you, she ran towards you before guards came and stood between her and you. 

“Countess Morrigan! You will conduct yourself with the dignity of your station or I will strip you of it, have you whipped and then drawn and quartered in the town square!” Anastasia boomed as she stood from her throne as she glared down hatefully at Agnes. 

“Sultana Saharazat is under my protection and any threat against her is a threat against the crown and comes with a death sentence and you and your family will be branded as traitors to the crown and everything you have will be awarded to her in retaliation, do I make myself clear?!” Anastasia snarled as Agnes realized the royal family was there immediately slinked back. 

“I apologize, your Majesty, I did not think you would be in here but this woman is a...” Agnes did her best to try to excuse.  

“You didn’t think that I would be in my own palace? Much less in my own audience room? Are you mad or a simpleton?” Anastasia demanded. 

“Neither, just...careless your Majesty.” Agnes tried to defer but her face was as red as beet as Richard looked angry and ashamed as his mistress, Myra stood a decent distance behind them and looked particularly annoyed as well. 

“Now guards, keep a line between the whole Morrigan family, the Sultana’s family and the Raymonds, just for good measure.” Anastasia commanded before more guards were called in as your family joined you as you reassured them that you were ok and that the Dowager Queen, was going to be acting as judge and jury in your case as your family was relieved. 

“Many many thanks to you- your Majesty for dealing with this matter personally.” Your mother and Grandmother offered as they knelt down respectfully as was their custom. 

“Do not thank me yet, we are just getting started, please, get up, also someone get everyone chairs so that they may be seated comfortably.” Anastasia commanded as she had you sit down at the table where all your letters were. 

“Now, let’s start at the beginning shall we? Ramsey, what exactly did you say to your father at Sultana Saharazat’s wedding to Count Edward Morrigan?” Anastasia demanded as Ramsey’s eyes got as wide as saucers as everyone except for Axal seemed to be surprised at the news that all of this would start with him and not the Morrigans. 

“I uh...well, you see at the time…” Ramsey fumbled over his words as he stood on his feet and fidgeted with his cuff links as Anastasia looked irritated as did the rest of his family especially his parents. 

“Ramsey, for the sake of time, please just tell this audience chamber- you said to your parents that day?” Anastasia tried to gently coach him. 

“That Sultana Saharazat was the perfect bride and that no one could match her.” Ramsey finally admitted. 

“But I don’t see…” Ramsey began before his grandmother raised her hand to silence him. 

“Now, Gregori, Ramsey is nearly forty, you have been on him to wed for the last two decades and in the last eight to ten years you have become harder and harder on him to find a bride, to get married and give your family line the legitimate heir it so desperately needs but you were stopped since Ramsey up until that point, has been a roguish rake clinging onto boyish foolishness as if it was his lifeline instead of realizing that it was his downfall and was going to be leading to his ruination, I believe the current lengths you had gone to up until that point was that if Ramsey had not found a bride that season you were going to cut him off financially completely and send him into the army to get the rakish ways beaten out of him one way or another.” Anastasia said with a hard look to her grandson who seemed to wilt under her intense gaze. 

“But since then, I have found a bride, and I am leaving behind my rakish past and she is the one true bride for me.” Ramsey offered. 

“And was it Sultana Saharazat?” Anastasia demanded. 

“Well...no,” Ramsey winced. 

“Right, so what I want to know was why you chose Sultana Saharazat on her wedding day to another as your bride?” Anastasia demanded. 

“I chose her out of panic, because since she was getting married that day, she was no longer available and it would give me more time and I figured that when Edward would eventually die, I would have had enough time to grow up by then.” Ramsey confessed shamefully. 

“So you deliberately chose a bride who was unavailable to put yourself and your parents at an impasse, thinking that they would stop hounding you and threatening you with the army if you chose one who conveniently was already married, by mere minutes.” Anastasia concluded. 

“Yes.” Ramsey confirmed as his cheeks were also beet red as he looked at you apologetically as everyone in your family as well as his own actually groaned, along with the Queen Dowager, the King and the Queen herself as the King looked ready to strangle his nephew with his own hands. 

“So you had no real feeling or attachment to Sultana Audravienne Saharazat, she was just a moura bride in a white dress at the end of the season and it was either chose an impossible option or lose everything?” Anastasia pressed further. 

“Yes.” Ramsey nodded guiltily. 

“And do you realize because you panicked and did that, that you are the reason Sultana Saharazat’s life was destroyed?!” Anastasia seethed as Ramsey’s eyes flooded with tears as he looked particularly mortified. 

“Please! No! I had no idea!” Ramsey wailed as he shook his head no. 

“How could Ramsey have known that the Morrigans would try to poison her with mourkatili! No one could have predicted that they would be so cruel and abuse her, thinking that because Edward Senior would have her that no one else could?!” Yalin insisted, coming to her son’s defense. 

“No, nor could you foresee that your own husband, my own son, which after today, that may be up for debate and put into question, but that is a battle for another time. In an effort to give your son the impossible would go so far as to poison his own countrymen to death.” Anastasia revealed in a snarling growl as everyone gasped as all eyes turned towards Gregori who was unusually silent as he kept his gaze on his mother defiantly. 

“Dr. Rickets, I believe it is your turn to tell the truth, the whole truth or you will be sent to the tower, drawn and quartered, your house burned after it is turned into a public toilet and your family turned out into the street.” Anastasia leveled at him as Dr. Rickets gulped. 

“The day after Edward came home from his honeymoon, he had gone to town on business and had run into Dauphin Gregori Raymond and when the Dauphin questioned Edward Senior about his new wife and he had confirmed that she was the perfect bride, he sent for me. He told me of the encounter and gave me a sum of a thousand pounds if I would poison Edward Sr. with Wolf’s Eye to be mixed in with his regular medicine, Wolf’s Eye is known for causing delirium before it causes a stroke and with his old age, going senile and dying of heart failure would not raise suspicion.” Dr. Rickets answered. 

“You took a bribe to kill my father?! To poison him?!” Richard roared as he stood up and pointed his finger at Dr. Rickets and had Richard been armed, you were sure Dr. Rickets would be run through from the rage in his voice alone.  

“Yes,” Dr. Rickets confirmed as he could not raise his eyes to Richard out of shame. 

“And when you discovered that he had been poisoned, I lied to you to protect myself and my family and put the blame on someone who would know poisons,” Dr. Rickets confessed. 

“Which in that household only left me to be suspect.” You volunteered. 

“So you asked for mourkatili but at the time the Dauphin was in Dorierra, trying to find Ramsey another wife, and the letter couldn’t reach him in time for me to find an answer and you said that if I did not supply you with mourkatili, that you would find another source so I obtained some, but I added Jade’s Crown to it, to help neutralize it’s lethality until the Dauphin could be reached.” Dr. Rickets tried to excuse as the whole royal family practically groaned and rolled their eyes in annoyance. 

“Except that Jade’s Crown when mixed with mourkatili while it does lesson it’s lethality when first ingested, it does not neutralize it, instead it makes it lethally addictive so that the moura who drinks it is instantly addicted and will drink themselves to death trying to drink more and more of it which in turn can lead to madness in a moura with 77% of the cases studied to date it leads to the moura being completely deranged beyond repair, if you really wanted to neutralize it, you would have added Dragon Heart Flower which turns mourkatili from sweet to putrid, salty and bitter so that even the smell of it makes everyone want to vomit, if you were so intent on offering up Sultana Saharazat to the Raymonds, why didn’t you do that or go to the police at the very least to report that Sultana Saharazat was about to be poisoned?” Mage Altissia snapped angrily at Dr. Rickets. 

“Because I was afraid, that if Dauphin Ramsey had found his bride once he visited the stables, that I would be found out, and I couldn’t risk the Morrigans knowing I tampered with the mourkatili, they knew what it smelled like and what it was supposed to look like, I could not use Dragon Heart Flower, because they would know that I knew too much about poisons instead of medicine and they would be suspicious of me and I would lose my medical license and my living as a doctor.” Dr. Rickets blubbered as he did his best not to cry and failed miserably. 

“Do you think after this moment anyone is going to trust you with their health? If I went to the papers and even hinted to the editor to tell the gossip columns about this, you would be run out of England and all of Europa based on rumor alone.” Yalin seethed. 

“And it’s not like Count and Countess Morrigan didn’t know that Audra was innocent. Jane informed me that when it was Audra who discovered that his medicine had been tampered with and tried to talk to you all about it, that she was dismissed and then accused of the very thing she was trying to bring to light and you repaid her by poisoning her in turn and how Jane, through her own snooping found the Wolf’s Eye and the Jade’s Crown in his own medical bag but yet you still did not believe her.” Charlotte offered with a pointed look to Agnes and Richard as Jane stayed by Rian’s side with your family because she didn’t want to be with the rest of her family for fear they would hurt her. 

“And the fact that your daughter even now, shrinks back from you proves your own guilt of abuse.” Anastasia pointed out as she noticed Jane’s reaction to all of this. 

“And the fact that you then accused her of being brainwashed by Audra and then disciplined her for just using her own mind and powers of deduction because Jane had investigated Audra herself and found that Audra brought no such things with her, says a lot more too.” Charlotte smirked smugly at the Morrigans as well as her grandmother. 

“So, what happened after that Dr. Rickets?” Anastasia asked. 

“The Dauphin sent a transmission via messengerari, and when I found out that Ramsey did not find another bride, I told him about what the Morrigans had done and what I had done to try to diminish it and then he told me to up the dose to Count Edward Senior and that he wanted to see Edward Morrigan’s obituary in the paper when he got back so that Ramsey would only have to wait another year before he could marry Countess Audravienne Morrigan. But I did not expect Edward’s body to be so strong. And I did not think he would hold on so long, nor abuse Countess Audravienne Morrigan to the extent that he did and I did not think that the Morrigans would be so determined to bury her with Edward.” Dr. Rickets confessed. 

“So, your own doctor was bribed to poison your father and yet you blame the innocents in the situation and break the contract by trying to murder the very one who knew something was amiss. Why didn’t you go to the police? Why didn’t you have her arrested and investigated, why go through all the trouble of poisoning her and trying to kill her?” Anastasia asked RIchard and Agnes. 

“We didn’t want to ruin our good name and reputation. Mouras are known to die of broken hearts, we thought it would be less suspicious if she died with him and we could pass the blame onto that.” Richard confessed. 

“And bury your own guilt with her, brilliant.” Anastasia sarcastically praised as she glared down at them. 

“But that wasn’t all your Majesty, the Morrigans have more sins that should be known.” Charlotte insisted. 

“Well, no one in this court room can trust either of you to ever tell us the truth, I would like ask the only trustworthy Morrigan left. Jane. Before you speak, know that when and if you decide to do so. You have my word to be protected from those monsters over there that you are unfortunately related to. And if you are worried about your own name and reputation being called into question, know that I personally will guarantee your safety and integrity of your own reputation and if I have to invite you to stay at Buckingham Palace as my honored guest and ward, then I’m ready and willing to make that offer.” Queen Alexandria finally spoke up. 

“And I second that.” Anastasia insisted. 

“The first time my parents had the mourkatili served to Audra, it was in a tea, disguised as hibiscus tea with sugar and honey to hide the mourkatili. Audra took one sip and immediately knew she had been poisoned and called out for help but they bound her and gagged her and forced it down her throat. She spent the better part of a week being drunk off of it and then almost another week being hungover and refused any drink other than water and nothing even remotely purple in her food. The second time my parents tried to poison her, they had my oldest half brother Dale, who is my father’s mistress, Miss Myra’s son she has born to my father out of wedlock, who was only 20, come and serve it to her and my mother insisted to prove that it was not poisonous, insisted that he taste test it first and Audra could tell from the smell that it was mourkatili and tried to stop him but he obeyed my mother and the moment it touched his lips, he fell down dead. My mother tried to pin the blame for his death on Audra, saying it was her insistance that all of her food and drink be tested first to Myra who came to Audra and demanded to know what Dale had ever done to her for her to poison him. And when Audra tried to tell her the truth, she didn’t believe her. Then my father returned home from business and when he heard about it and saw Dale’s dead body being carted off, he had Audra bound and gagged and then he whipped her himself, even though I was just in the other room and saw and heard it all, And I had a messengerari in the room and captured the moment and it wasn’t until I made Myra and my father both watch it when they learned the truth. Myra apologized to Audra, by my father never did. Instead he then did the same abuse he did to Audra, he did to my mother only twice as worse. My mother couldn’t leave her room for two months after and could barely walk without the help of a cane because he had beaten her so badly, he nearly killed her.” Jane confessed as Ramsey was actually sobbing, feeling so much guilt and remorse as Axal wanted nothing more than to comfort him but the line of guards kept him from doing so as you watched as your own family stopped looking at Jane like the enemy, instead, looked at her with kindness and sympathy instead. 

“So then, a month later, my mother tried to have my youngest half brother- George, who was only six, to come and serve Audra that mourkatili tea and tried to do it again only that time Audra, in an effort to protect little George, drank all of it down as quickly as she could so that he would not be harmed at all.” Jane revealed with a broken sob. 

“Jane, show them.” You pleaded with her before she nodded and together you went up to the large mirror on the wall that was itself, a grand messengerari  and put in your code to bring in the feed from your scene catchers for it to play out on the it before you put in your first password into the messengerari and then Jane put in the second as everyone watched as it all played out as you and Jane held each other and cried as you watched it all as you noticed that someone had gone through this and strung all the “best parts”, or “worst parts” depending on your point of view-  together so that it really showcased just how horrible and vicious the Morrigan’s- besides Jane- were. 

“This is an outrage! To have our privacy invaded as such!” Agnes screeched. 

“Guards, will you bind and gag that wretch to her chair and handcuff that beast next to her...” The King, Leopold snarled angrily before they came and bound and gagged Agnes so that she was tied to the chair and couldn’t move as the rest of it played out as Richard looked fully ashamed and like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole and didn’t fight when irons were put on his, neck, wrists and ankles so that he was bound just like all the postmen who had also been brought in were. 

“But your majesties, there is something missing from the record, where is the moment of Edward’s death?” Dr. Ricket’s volunteered. 

“He had either a stroke or heart attack by your diagnosis and that happened while he was in the act of raping Audra, I helped her strike it from the record to at least preserve what little bit of dignity she had left.” Jane defended evenly. 

“And that will be allowed and of course accepted.” Anastasia insisted. 

“Absolutely.” King Leopold agreed. 

“Indeed.” Queen Anastasia readily agreed as well. 

“So, since it is clear that Sultana Saharazat is the innocent party and since she has paid for every bit of gold and wealth she has with her own blood, it is unthinkable that she should have to pay any more for anything else. However, in order to protect the Crown, the Dauphin’s involvement in this case can not be made public, so, Sultana Saharazat, what can Gregori, Yalin and Ramsey offer you in recompense for their involvement? Besides their deepest apologies and regrets?” King Leopold asked you. 

“There are a few things I want from them. The first, I want Charlotte to be free to marry whoever she deems worthy, whether he be of high status or low. It is clear her parents enjoy a loving and wonderful marriage and I want her to enjoy the same with someone who she wants. The second is I want Ramsey to be free to marry Octavia Lafronze and I want her own fee to the stables for her and her companion, Katardrina to be paid as well. I want my brother Axal to marry Katardrina but stay close to Ramsey and Octavia since the four of them are very close and I do not wish to pull them apart. It is clear to me that Ramsey did not intend for any of this to happen and he made a mistake and neither he nor anyone else could foresee how desperate his father was to see him married. And the fact that he has shed so many tears of guilt and remourse, I know he does not take this lightly and I believe he has learned his lesson and will never make this mistake ever again. Gregori and Yalin have been nothing but kind and compassionate and generous with me while I have stayed with them. But now I feel that they only did so out of guilt, at least on Gregori’s part, because they knew they provided the figurative spark that ignited the forest fire that happened at Broadcove. Third, my griffin Heavencrest has mated and paired with their own griffin Charlico. I would like him to be mine so that Heavencrest and Charlico may stay together and fourth, at the ball at Havenfield, Ramsey, in friendship offered that I and the other mouras who came from Dorierra would be elevated to Dowager status, and I want those promises and guarantees to be fulfilled, So I want everyone who has come from Dorierra up until this point in my case, either male or female, to be given Dowager status and any who wish to stay in English society, I would like for them to receive titles of Nobility, they do not have to be high, but I would like them to be high enough that they all can move about in high society with ease, if they wish to.” You answered. 

“Audra, please know that at least my children and I had no idea of Gregori’s involvement and I want you to know that all kindness and consideration from them and myself, was always genuine, of course you can have Charlico, I will give you his papers the moment we get home, please is there anything else we can do?” Yalin offered and you could tell she was being genuine. 

“I will let you know when I think of something else.” You offered. 

“Thank you.” Yalin thanked you graciously. 

“Now for the Morrigans, let’s revisit your case, because it does not stop here. You actually bribed four members of the Royal Postal Service to destroy every piece of mail Sultana Saharazat sent out and every piece she would receive and you hired a mage to cast a spell on your own lightning rods so that it would disrupt the signal from every messengerari not only on at Broadcove and Mirador but it was so strong that it made all your neighbor’s messengerari’s cut in and out for the last two years. The fact that you put into question the integrity of the Royal Mail Service was the reason I dismissed your case from court. But as you can see Mage Bellfast was more than happy to duplicate every piece of mail that you ordered to be burned and Mage Altissia provided the rest. But if that wasn’t enough, you had your mistress, send her own children, your own bastards as servants in the Sultana’s household to work for you as spies as you continued to pay them their wages that you had been paying them at your home while they collected wages from Sultana Saharazat as well. Your wife is one to talk about an invasion of privacy, when you yourself have been invading hers all along.” Anastasia insisted as you began opening the letters and read them for yourself, only to find about three months into your widowhood, how all of them told their father in their own way how they would spy on you no more, because you had treated them with kindness, respect and dignity and how he could keep his money, they didn’t need it or want it. But instead, that your own wages to them were plenty generous enough for them to have comforts enough to suit “the likes of them”. 

“Except she turned my own children against me, they haven’t reported to me in over half a year! Practically nine months! And they keep sending back any money I try to send them, which is hurtful and deceitful in itself.  She has deceived you all and she has clearly conspired with the Raymonds!” Richard tried to accuse.

“Did your nanny drop you on your head? Are you mad to make such an accusation?” King Leopold asked Richard who shut his mouth to keep from saying anything else. 

“Nevermind answering that, I have come to my decision. Because of your shameless exploits and treachery. You will be stripped of your nobility. Since you both are guilty of murder as in the case of that wretch who goes by Agnes or attempted murder in both of your cases. Everything you have, all wealth, all connections, all property, business enterprises, investments, land ownership, everything, will be handed over to Sultana Audravienne Saharazat to do with as she pleases and she can turn your precious Broadcove into a public latrine for all I care. Both of you will be sent to the asylum for clear insanity, where both of you will not only be treated with Wolf’s Eye but Wolf’s Mane as well and both of you will rot in a prison cell going insane and because Jane has been with the Raymond’s she was not exposed to the sickness that caused both of you to go mad in attempts to bribe Dr. Rickets into giving you mourkatili to poison and kill the Sultana Audravienne Saharazat.” King Leopold decreed. 

“Except for little Edward. He is only a boy, and is completely innocent in all of this too.” You offered. 

“Very well, since Sultana Saharazat has spoken for him, he will be brought to be with Jane. 

“Actually, your majesty, if I have a suggestion, if you like it, you can use it, if not, let things happen how you have directed them to.” You intervened again. 

“Very well, what are your thoughts on this matter?” He asked. 

“I have read these letters that all of Richard’s eldest children have written to him, rejecting him because if their father loved them so much, why would he put up with Agnes mistreating them so cruelly so that with just a little bit of kindness, respect and dignity from me- they happily switched their loyalties to me. Richard’s mistress, Miss Myra Bellafont, I wish for Broadcove may go to her. For she too has spent most of her life having to put up with Agnes, and was powerless to protect her own children from her partner’s wife, to the point that her own eldest son lost his life because of Agnes’ hate towards them. They were blameless in that they did not ask to have the father they do and they did not ask to be brought into the world or had any control over their circumstances and as much as Richard and Agnes made my life a living hell, I can’t imagine what they have made her go through. If at all possible, if she could be given a title, it doesn’t have to be a high one, but I wish for her and her children to inherit Broadcove and even though Agnes has treated Myra and her children with animosity, I know Myra doesn’t hold any towards Jane or little Edward and even Edward Senior was kind and partial to them while he lived. Even now the children of hers that remain at Broadcove are little Edward’s playmates and if Myra can swear and promise me as well as their Majesties that she will care for Edward and Jane well, I trust she will care for little Edward as well as she does her own little Geroge and I do not wish for Jane or little Edward to partake in their parent’s disgrace and I want the same freedoms that I have requested for Charlotte to be Jane’s as well, so that she can accept any offer of marraige from anyone she deems worthy as well, who will love her and treat her with kindness, respect, reverence and dignity, all of which she is just as deserving as I am.” You offered hopefully. 

“Very well, Myra Bellafont, you are now awarded the title of Marquise, you have come from somewhere foreign, you are a wealthy widow and have bought up Broadcove once you learned that Count and Countess Morrigan had gone on holiday and contracted a disease that made them go mad and your own sympathy towards their innocent children have moved you to take them on as your wards and you are now their loving and caring guardian. The house is to be cleaned thoroughly and Sultana Saharazat will award you any businesses that the Morrigans have so that you may upkeep Broadcove and that income may provide for your needs and the needs of your children.” King Leopold proclaimed. 

“Yes your majesty.” Yourself and Myra happily accepted as she curtsied deeply as Anges wriggled and screamed around her gag in her spot.

“Take Mr. and Mrs. Morrigan and Dr. Rickets to the asylum at once and turn these four traitorous men over to the tower.” Dr. Leopold insisted as he gestured to them since they had come in already in chains. 

“But it was Audra who dealt Edward his death blow!” Dr. Rickets hollered as the hair on the back of your neck rose as your anger blazed as you gripped the dagger at your waist so hard your knuckles turned white as you wanted to stab him. 

“You yourself proclaimed he had died of heart failure in your autopsy report before his body was buried.” King Leopold frowned as Jane and yourself looked at each other worriedly before your own desperation to never be afraid of this secret that you had given almost everything to keep hidden. But no more. If you were going to expose everything, you would not hold back.  

“Your Majesties, I do not wish to live any kind of lie. I do not wish for anyone to ever hold anything over me or blackmail me ever again. So, I will show you the moment of Count Edward’s death and you can judge for yourselves, whether I was guilty or not of his death, but I ask all of you watch and really see all of it, do not look away, do not close your eyes and do not turn a blind eye to it.” You insisted as you held Jane’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze as you gave her a reassuring smile as you both put in the third and final password that showed the truth as all of the Royal Family as well as yours watched in horror as Edward tried to rape you then once his flesh touched yours, he turned into a statue of platinum and fell to the bed and broke it, the crash echoing through the audience room as gasps were given by everyone except by Myra, Jane and yourself as it showed you in a panic, touching Edward and turning him to flesh again and then calling for Jane for help as you told her what had happened and how confused you were about it and wanted to know what to do as both of you called in Dr. Rickets to make a diagnosis and then to Myra and the servants to keep quiet about the crash as Myra herself brokered for you to take her own children with you when you would leave Broadcove as a widow and pleaded with you to be good to them. 

“Audra, I would like to apologize, had I known that that was the reason for the crash I heard, that  I never would have made that deal with you and I’m so sorry if my own children following you to Mirador caused you any distress, I never asked them to spy on you.” Myra offered as she wiped her tears from her eyes. 

“I know, but Richard did.” You answered. 

“So you did kill him!” Richard practically crooned, feeling vindicated and validated.

“Oh enough! Guard, gag him as well so that nothing else of a poisonous nature leaves his mouth, only enters it.” King Leopold ordered before Richard too was gagged with a handkerchief. 

“No, she is innocent of murder because she didn’t purposefully do so because if she did know she had had that ability prior to that instant, don’t you think you yourself would have turned to platinum the moment you landed your first slap? It was self defense, surely you know enough of moura history and heard the tales that any one who dare force a moura to bed, would be turned into a pillar of gold by morning?” Anastasia defended you evenly. 

“That was our protection for millenia. Audra did not intend for Edward Senior to die and had Edward Senior had his wits, he never would have done so to begin with. And now that you are officially branded as insane, you can scream such things at the top of your lungs and no one will believe you.” The Queen Consort- Alexandria replied to the Morrigans.  

“I judge you innocent in all things, do not let this moment define you and do not let this moment stop you from living your life to the fullest.” Alexandria urged you warmly and comfortingly. 

“I too judge you completely innocent. And hereby decree, that because you suffered at the hands of Richard Morrigan, Edward Morrigan Senior and by extension, Dauphin Gregori Raymond, all previous rulings will stand, and this doesn’t change anything except for one thing. I hereby promote you and all mouras who choose to stay in England- the noble rank and title of Marquess as well and award you personally, a living of twenty five thousand pounds a year from the crown for the rest of your life, whether you choose to remarry or not. And all others who wish to stay in the country, a living of ten thousand pounds a year.” He decreed. 

“Thank you, Your Majesties, might we invite all the other Mouras in to tell them the news directly?” You requested before King Leopold nodded and ordered for Calla and her brothers as well as Benny and her brothers to come in along with Octavia and Katardrian as the messengerari was cleared to just show a mirror’s reflection yet again. 

“So, the reason I have brought you all here today was to discuss Sultana Audravienne’s Saharazat’s case in the courts. Because of certain components of the case and sensitive nature of it, I myself put a stop to it going into the court system to keep reproach from coming to the crown. And with such concessions to protect the privacy of all involved, the Sultana has been reimbursed accordingly and hopefully to her satisfaction.” Dowager Queen Anastasia began. 

“Yes, it has been settled to my satisfaction, thank you Your Majesty.” You happily replied as you and Jane smiled happily and with relief to each other as you sat side by side and still held onto each other because now, you both were safe, and more importantly, free. 

“So part of the concessions and reimbursement that the Sultana asked for was that all of you from Dorierra, male and female alike, are now all considered Dowagers and are invited to stay in England as Maquess and a living will be awarded each of you for ten thousand pounds a year.” The King ordered as they all smiled brightly and happily. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” They all happily and excitedly thanked him. 

“Now, call in the stable masters from Dorierra so that their masters may be updated to Dowager status.” King Leopold instructed before the stable masters came and took two at a time, starting with the adults just as Agnes and Richard were being led out along with Dr. Rickets as he too was gagged and bound. 

“Marquess Saharazat.” Mage Bellfast approached you as you sat down at the desk and continued to go through all the letters there. 

“Yes?” You asked. 

“Again, I am Mage Bellfast, I was hired by the Dauphin to recreate your mail that was burned.” He reintroduced himself. 

“Oh, yes, thank you so much. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have it all back.” You smiled happily as he offered his hand as you graciously gave it to him for him to kiss your knuckles in a very gentlemanly like manner. 

“But I was hoping to get just the smallest of tokens from you in thanks.” Belfast began. 

“Of course, what would you like?” You asked. 

“For you to turn this bar of moura gold into platinum for me.” Belfast said as he produced the bar and put it onto the table in front of you as Mage Altissia practically ran towards you. 

“Do not do that!” Mage Altissia demanded. 

“Why not?” Belfast asked. 

“Do you think she would give me moura platinum and not you? Surely you have something made from moura gold that she can turn for you.” Belfast replied calmly as you picked up the bar but nothing happened. 

“No, because she only got the power once the mourkatili was in her system and since the Dragon Grevu healed her, thus her indigo violet hair, she has lost such capabilities.” Altissia offered as you blew out a breath of relief as you squeezed the bar with all your might but nothing was happening. 

“Well that won’t do, will it.” Belfast before in a flash he hit you with a spell that knocked you backwards off your chair and your feet flying over your head and onto the floor which caused everyone to stop and stare and rush over to you. 

“What did you do to me?!” You yelled as everyone watched as the indigo violet drained from your hair back into your scalp just as you found your feet, drew your dagger and aimed it at Bellfast’s throat before he used magic to stop your fist.

“Temper, temper.” Belfast tsked and smiled wolfishly as the golden dagger turned platinum white in your grips as indigo violet blood dripped from your nose as your eyes changed color from gold- to a glowing indigo violet as well as once again the mourkatili entered your body as you felt weak and fell to the floor coughing and sputtering, your blood splattering and staining the wood you stood on as your blade clattering to the floor with you. 

“Mage Bellfast, what is the meaning of this?!” Queen Dowager Anastasia demanded as she and the Queen and the King came over to see for themselves. 

“Well you saw it for yourself, she is a platinum moura now and I wanted my payment for all that mail and correspondence I had to conjure up.” Belfast explained. 

“And since your Majesties have ordered for her and every other moura who came to England to have nobility and a very generous yearly income, wouldn’t it be fair for her to help mitigate that cost by turning any number of moura gold bricks you have in the place to platinum for you?” Belfast offered as King Leopold hesitated for a beat. 

“Guards, have ten moura gold bricks be brought in.” King Leopold ordered as Alexandria and Anastasia both gasped in outrage. 

“Leo that is uncalled for, hasn’t the poor girl suffered and given enough?!” Anastasia demanded. 

“You said yourself that she shouldn’t have to pay anything to anyone ever again, this is going back on your word!” Alexandria insisted as she stared in horror at her husband. 

“I’m just asking her to change ten small bricks of gold into platinum, then I’m sure Bellfast can cure her again and all will be well.” Leopold insisted. 

“Now, if you’ll please.” Belfast insisted as he handed you the small gold bar as you touched it and watched with regret as it turned from gold to platinum before you hatefully gave it back to him before you turned and walked over to where your grandmother’s dagger had clattered away as you picked it up but when you touched it again, it turned back to gold, before turning to black ash in your hands and disintegrated in your hands as all the jewels fell through your fingers and fell to the ground as everyone else screamed to see your hands now stained black just as Bellfast took the platinum bar in his gloved hands and made the fatal mistake of kissing it, the moment the bar touched his lips, his whole face began to be eaten away and turned into black ash which caused everyone to give Bellfast room as they watched helplessly as Bellfast completely disintergrated into a pile of black ash and clothes, the platinum bar now landing in a heap. 

“The plague! You have unleashed the golden plague again!” The Dowager Queen screamed in horror at Leopold as she struck at him. 

“Your Majesties, I can explain this phenomenon. Because Audravienne unlocked her platinum abilities once the mourkatili was in her body, that means that only when she has mourkatili still in her system can she turn moura gold into platinum, but that also means that all platinum she turns has the same properties as mourkatili. So, I would not advise for her to turn anything else into platinum, and for her to return to where Grevu is and become healed again, then all will be well, besides, the “cure” that Mage Bellfast gave to Gregori was not infact a cure, but it would make everything Audra touch turn into deadly platinum and she would surely die of starvation.” Mage Alitssia insisted before you went over and picked up the platinum brick and watched as it turned from platinum white- to gold but then black ash almost instantaniously once again. 

“Guards, disregard that order about the gold bricks. As soon as they have all been classified as dowagers, they are free to go. My apologies Marquees Saharazat.” King Leopold offered as he looked both fearful yet apologetic before he ordered for that mess to be cleaned up immediately before the Voyambi’s finally came into the audience room to see the King, the Queen and the Queen Mother leave quickly through one door as the Morrigans had already been carted off in chains which was a relief to see before they came in to see you standing there with blackened hands but with golden hair again with a pile of black ash at your feet and on your dress. 

“What happened?” Demsey asked as he approached you before the masters returned with your parents and your grandmothers and your hier father and his wife and his mother in tow as they all had their masters rolled up in their hands with big bright smiles as the smiles immediately fell when they saw the scene. 

“Addie? What happened?” Your mother asked. 

“I unleashed the gold plague.” You whispered before you were called back by the masters of the stables to be reexamined by them and the group of doctors with them as you explained to them what had just happened in the audience room with Mage Altissia’s help.  

“Unfortuantely Sultana Saharazat, because of the mourkatili and because of your affect on moura gold, we can not give you the status of Dowager, the best we can offer you is Tavnit and until you are healed, you can not set foot back into Dorierra.” Master Ophelia offered apologetically as you closed your eyes and let your tears of disappointment fall. 

“That’s fine, I accept.” You nodded as it was put into your master and stamped in as your hands were washed clean from the ashes as you walked away and went over to Dr. Chu and his wife to get reexamined by them as Dr. Chu took your blood pressure and his eyes went wide. 

“Mei, take her blood pressure and pulse.” Wen insisted in Mandarin to his wife before she did as he asked as her eyes went wide. 

“What is it?” You asked them softly in Mandarin to keep your conversation private in the corner. 

“My Lady, you have the happy heartbeat.” Mei informed you with big wide eyes and a serious face. 

“I what?” You asked. 

“You are pregnant, about three and a half weeks to a month along.” Dr. Chu diagnosed as Mei nodded in agreement to that diagnosis as you searched your thoughts back before you remembered- that last night with Demsey Draft, at the Masquerade ball, you were so heartbroken, that you forgot to order the pregnancy warding tea. You did not drink it that last time and apparently that was all it took. 

“Can I get rid of it? Surely it’s too early…” You tried to ask. 

“No, this is why Grevu healed you. I can tell by your chi, aura and energy readings. His magic is protecting this babe from all harm, even now, the mourkatili is not harming it at all, it’s being shielded and protected.” Mei explained as she waived her hands over your abdomen to feel the variations in energy as tears flooded your vision. To be so close to finally being with Duke Demsey Voyambi and Demsey Draft planted an obstacle right into your belly and you loved Demsey too much to try to pass this on as his, even if you married him today, the baby would come a month too soon. And while Mr. Draft and Duke Voyambi shared a lot of the same features, surely you couldn’t live with yourself if you passed this baby off as his. You needed to get out of here. And fast. 

“Say nothing, to anyone.” You pleaded with them. 

“Of course.” They readily agreed. 

“Thank you.” You thanked them as you hugged them tight before you bowed in respect to both of them to honor them. 

“I have to go.” You excused yourself as you left the room and the moment you saw Demsey, as much as you wanted to run into his arms, you couldn’t and it felt worse than a thousand stabs to the heart as you came out into the audience room with your master rolled up in your hands as you went over to your family and revealed what had happened with the stable masters as they too started crying. 

“Leumeni? Why are there so many letters between you and Audra?” Kiera asked as she picked a small stack of them up and looked them over. 

“We are just close friends, that is all.” You tried to excuse as you grabbed the letters out of her hand as you readily got a bag and hurriedly dumped all of your mail into it to keep anyone else from looking through it.  

“Yup, just close friends,” Leumeni did his best to deflect just as you heard Benny scream out a ‘What?!’ in horror and outrage. 

“What the hell?” You asked as Benny came storming out of that room. 

“Leumeni! Coravien! Come we need to go home! Now!” Benny demanded angrily in Marinai as she stormed out of the examination room before you went over to Dr. Chu and his wife. 

“What was that?” You asked them in Mandarin.

“She has the happy heartbeat too. Grevu’s snot made the seed from the sex she had the night before the Kamoba take root. His magic is protecting her babe just like yours, but until he lifts his magic, she has no choice but to bear the babe. Even now she is going to plead with him to lift it so she can kill it.” Mei answered as you gasped and covered your mouth with both hands as Sierge came over to you. 

“What is wrong with Benny? What are they saying?” Sierge asked you. 

“Uh, Sierge, you need to go back to the Palace of Windsor and stay with Benny and do not let Benny approach Grevu until she tells you exactly why she wants anything to do with him.” You advised him with a gesture to your belly as if you were stroking a very pregnant belly as Sierge’s eyes went wide when you made that gesture before he fled Buckingham Palace to chase after Benny.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Never say never - Chapter 13

Here's a new chapter of my main story (I forgot to go on posting lol)

Fandom: RPF- Richard Armitage

Characters : OC x RA

Rating : Mature

Warnings : RPF (and factually incorrect and very soppy)

°13° ­~Victoria~

She had expected questions and intrusive crowding, but her friends and their friends, sat motionless around the table still. Victoria saw that they had unpacked every single book and movie she had bought and put them into piles, though she could not discern the logic governing the separate piles.

“Have a nice chat?” Liza asked after a moment of Victoria just standing in the door, wordless, chewing on her lower lip.

Victoria, in turn, gave an assenting grunt and handed Martin back his phone with a grateful smile.

“More information, please?” Angie demanded, crossing her legs, and putting her folded hands upon them like a school mistress ready to listen to the recitation of a particularly hopeless student. Victoria bristled.

She had to dig her heels into the floor to keep herself from turning around and fleeing the room. Adulthood somehow boiled down to the absence of the heavy, constraining hand at the back of her neck, and Victoria had a tendency to bolt every chance that she got. Afterwards, she always felt ashamed because she knew that she had not solved anything by just leaving a situation in which she felt uncomfortable, but she had not learned how to face her instincts and overcome them.

For her, it had always been a matter of being able to follow her reflexes or being forced to go against them.

It pained her to discover that her instincts were all wrong and, what was worse, not only did they neither soothe nor protect Victoria herself, no, they also usually ended up hurting someone else.

“We…we talked. I said he’s welcome to come here if he cares to. He said he’d help me set up any other furniture I might need.” She felt and sounded sheepish, Victoria knew, but she didn’t know how to make that very normal conversation sound like the outrageous exchange of dark confessions the others apparently expected.

“Oh, so I’ve been made redundant? And I had hoped you’d let me watch the movie with you.” Hiddleston winked at her.

Big breath, Victoria told herself, this was good, this was healthy, don’t run, stand your ground.

“You’re welcome here, little fairy-lord. You can come watch the movie with me.” She said in a tiny voice.

“Oh goodie good good, we have made piles of movies we want to watch along with you…on your fancy new TV…” Angie clapped her hands and, finally, Victoria understood the piles. “You naughty girl, you.” Liza laughed.

“Naughty?” Victoria blinked. She did not see why she would be naughty for watching movies. Had her father been right, and they corrupted the impeccable morals he had tried to instil in her? Were movies the devil’s dark corruption after all?

Martin had called it “porn”, she remembered, and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

“What are you talking about? Have I done something wrong?” Panic seeped into her voice now and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. She knew that Liza sometimes made crude jokes, but up to this point, she had never been the butt of these jokes.

“Liza!” Angie hissed, rushing to Victoria’s side to soothe her with shushing noises and tender caresses. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She said, but Victoria could hear that she was lying, as noted before, Angie was a terrible liar.

“Yeah, low blow, I’m sorry. So, what else does Armitage say?” Liza lifted her hands apologetically and leaned back in her chair, knowing that Victoria would most probably shrink back from her if she was to approach right now.

“He wanted to go over some comments in the script with me. We might meet up if he finds the time. I gave him my number.” Victoria narrated in an emotionless voice; her mind still occupied by the accusation of being a naughty girl.

Angie threw a look at her wife that was so earth-shatteringly severe that Liza didn’t even dare make a face at that. Unfortunately, Jenna had not picked up on it and so, still snacking on the pizza crust, she asked: “Really? You gave him your number? Cute.”

Victoria stared at her for a solid 2 minutes; her mouth was bone-dry, and her tongue seemed to be glued to her teeth. She barely heard the warning hiss Angie gave her employee. Her head was spinning; she was entering territories of supposition and innuendo she was painfully unfamiliar with, and it scared her.

“Cute?” She gasped, feeling the tears of helpless perplexity burn behind her eyes, ready to spill over. Victoria had never given this number to any man, because the last time she had given a man her private telephone number, she had had another number, she had lived in another city, she had led a very different life.

“It’s not like that. It’s professional.” She tried to defend herself weakly. It was true, she had met that man twice in her life, and both times, it had been with Liza in the context of that ludicrous side-job she had accepted to keep busy.

On the other hand, she was a single woman and, as far as she knew, he was a single man. She was a recent divorcee; he had never been married. He had slept with a thousand and one nameless women in his life…and she had only ever had one sexual partner and had never expected having to think about another one.

“Fuck.” She cursed. There were no Saints that came to mind to call upon in this situation. She should have trusted her gut feeling and pull out of this whole story while she was ahead; she should have left this first evening right away and never return to that damn room. She should have kept her door closed tightly.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry…I’m sure that he knows that it’s strictly professional.” Jenna tried to calm her, but her eyes were wide and worried now.

“OH! Will he? I’ve invited the man into my home, haven’t I? Like Delilah to Samson, oh Lord…” Victoria groaned, all of her compounded trauma harrowing her to the brink of tears once again. What would he think of her? Did he believe that she wanted to throw herself at him like a common prostitute? Did he expect that? Would he be violent if she refused?

If he thought that her intentions had been indecent, surely, he would not try to contact her in any way or form, would he?

“Like…Vic, do you intend to seduce him and cut his magic…hair?” Liza mocked, but when she saw the expression Victoria’s face, she fell silent instantly. She waved Hiddleston and Martin aside, feeling that they should not draw attention to themselves.

“Vic,” she pleaded, “look at me, girl. It’s okay, you’re safe. It was a dumb joke, nothing more.”

Liza knew that she had gone too far too fast; Victoria was in her living room while it was dark outside, together with 4 people who were attracted to women and yet, she had only made the connection once Armitage had been mentioned.

Devout and faithful, Victoria had only ever known the man she had married, in the biblical sense, and it had been overzealous of her to believe that she might take another lover so easily. There were too many things to unravel before.

“What have I done?” Victoria sobbed and the dam broke; hot tears broke their way out of her system, and she cried pitifully for a few minutes straight, shaking so much that her teeth clattered as if she was standing naked in the snow.

“Victoria? Is there anything I can do for you? You can talk to me.” Hiddleston offered and his calm demeanour managed to pacify her enough to shake her head slowly. “I have acted abominably. I…just can’t do anything right.” She croaked.

“That is not true. You’ve been frightened and overwhelmed at first, but you’ve been a kind hostess tonight. We had fun this afternoon, didn’t we? What is it that upsets you so?” Hiddleston took her hands and brushed his thumbs lightly across them in slow, gentle circles.

“What does that poor man think of me now? He will believe I am completely insane!” Victoria lamented, tears still running down her cheeks in regular intervals. “No, he won’t. He’s not a monster. We all can see that you’ve been through some things, but we’re here to make it better. And, as you said, it’s strictly professional. I’m sure he knows that.”

Hiddleston exchanged a look with Martin. Richard knew, but that didn’t prevent him from maybe hoping that one day, it wouldn’t be so. As far as one could make any assumptions based on Victoria’s erratic behaviour, she seemed half scared to death that it might turn into something that wasn’t all that professional anymore as well.

“You’ve had a stressful day, why don’t we leave you alone? I’m surprisingly free the next few days, so if you want me to, I can swing by tomorrow and while I go have my picture taken, you can choose some more furniture. And then, we finish the movie? What about that?” He coaxed her into calming down until a puffy face and a pathetic hiccup were all that remained of her passionate outburst. “Yes, I’d like that. We can go have cakes in the afternoon?” Victoria replied.

It was easy to like Hiddleston, and that discovery surprised and amazed her. He was kind and unobtrusive; he had a good sense of humour, and, most importantly, she was in no way attracted to him.

Oh, he was glorious, there was no denying that, but he reminded her too much of that friend she had dreamt up as a child – when she had lain in bed, lonely as can be – to be in any way titillating to her. He made her wish that she wasn’t an only child; he made her long for siblings, for someone to go to for advice and solace.

Never would she look at him like Jenna did: with big, longing cow-eyes that were starry with wordless adulation.

Vic’s mind slammed on the brakes again. Jenna did stare at that man like he had literally just fallen from the sky and, when Vic had proposed to go to the tearooms, her breath had stumbled for a second there.

Jenna had a crush on Liza’s friend.

Victoria was utterly baffled. Were things that easy in the normal world? Did people just meet someone handsome and kind, and then allowed their heart to leap into their eyes? Victoria could not fathom being that brazen and reckless.

“He’s right. Let’s retreat. I’m sorry, Vic.” Liza shooed the others out of the room. “Good night, dear Victoria. Thanks for the pizza. I hope we can be friends now.” Martin spoke gently as if to a sick child or to a fretful mare.

“Sorry for being such a mess. Yes, sure we can be friends. Thank you so much for the poppets.” She picked them up gingerly as she followed the others out of the room and turned off the lights in the living room.

“Not the kind of plastic dick people usually keep next to their bed.” Liza mumbled under her breath, which made Victoria skewer her with a scandalised, speechless look. “Sorry, it was too good to miss out on. You know, because…”

Victoria lifted her eyebrows in an expression of annoyed impatience; the joke went completely over her head.

“Richard is abbreviated Dick. You know…” Liza wagged her head from side to side to make very clear that she was only making a very tasteless joke and not attacking Victoria in any way. “Funny.” Victoria commented, her face so stern and forbidding that she would have given Armitage and Macfadyen a run for their money.

“They will not be kept next to my bed…once I get the proper décor for them.” Victoria then snarled. “Décor?” Martin was interested by that comment, his hand on the doorhandle already but his face turned to Victoria, eager to hear how she would proceed.

“I guess I’ll have to go to the pet shop to get a proper set-up where they’d feel at ease.” Victoria shrugged.

“They’re inanimate dolls.” Liza cried out, horrified at the idea that her friend would procure a cave and a hobbit-hole for two toys. “They’re the only friends I have now.” Victoria shot back with a dark smile.

“Ah, come on. I love you, girl. You know that I love you, don’t you? I’d never want to do you harm.” Liza smiled warmly, hugging Victoria to her chest, and breathing in her warm, clean smell. “Go to bed.” She breathed and left.

And so, Victoria went upstairs with her poppets, laying them gently on the pillow next to hers before getting ready for bed. She brushed her hair and her teeth, applied creams and serums, and put her clothes in the laundry basket…only to return to an empty bedroom. For all anybody cared, she could have gone to bed dirty and dishevelled; nobody would ever have known.

Shaking her head, she dispelled those thoughts forcefully. She had made progress today, she had opened her home to other people, and she had taken two different, hasty, and informal meals with them. She was not sure that her friends were aware of the fact that she had never lived alone before in her life and that those experiences were completely new to her, but she felt the excitement of having had acquaintances over.

A couch, she would buy a proper couch for her little sanctuary so more people could come and enjoy movies with her.

She was on the right track, she could feel it, and so she fell asleep, her poppets next to her, with a blissful smile.

~Richard~

He was an idiot. He had nothing to do the next few days, but he had made it sound as if he was terribly busy.

She had assumed that, and he had been too proud to clear the misunderstanding up, which made it only fair that now, the ball was in his court, and he would have to contact Victoria to plan a…meeting.

He would not call it a “date”, because first of all, it wasn’t a date, and second, he didn’t want to play into the hands of Martin and Elizabeth who had been aiming for that kind of thing apparently.

She had sounded breathless but not as hostile as before tonight. She had given him her number and he couldn’t stop fidgeting with the paper; by now, he had saved her number in his phone and on his laptop, just in case that he reduced the poor note to dust by handling it so much.

What would he say though? Should he give her a call or just text? He had said he’d text her, but he wanted to be on the phone with her again; it seemed that they were doing alright on the phone even though she frequently checked out of the conversation to talk to other people.

By now, the others were certainly gone…No, he would not call her again when he had nothing new to tell her. He wondered if she would have reached out if she had his number; women were usually better at that than men.

Sexist, cool, he was going insane at a rapid pace. Pictures of her, kneeling on the floor and praying to her various saints to protect her from whatever it was that haunted her so, rose inside his mind; he wondered if she slept in long, flowing, weirdly anachronistic nightgowns or if she went to bed in an old ratty sweatshirt. Both had their own appeal.

God, it was late, and his mind was wandering in all the wrong directions. He would not think of her in bed, he had no reason or right to do so, she had not given him any cause or encouragement to take that path down a very slippery slope, but he could not forget the small moans he had caught now and again.

Of course, they might have been groans of exasperation and impatience, but even so, there was something within him, deep beneath the parts of his mind he had any control over, that had responded ferociously to the breathless sound.

Maybe, he should just get it over with and send her one of those texts that only informed her of his number…

[makemegentle]

this competition asked to write a short story in the dystopian genre and my entry's below - don't rb!

the sweetest fruit

The boy gasped, straining against the padded frame of the jeep just as the vehicle slowly came to a halt. ‘Look!’ he shouted, pointing at a spot about a hundred feet from the group. ‘Look, Mum! That’s so cool!’

Half-instinctively, his mother had already grabbed a fistful of his tank-top, ready to yank him back. She had spent the entirety of the trip sitting as still as possible, facing forward, eyes stubbornly fixed on the self-cooling top of the car in a pointless effort to fight her motion sickness: her patience was already wearing very thin without her eight-year-old personal safety hazard trying to get himself killed.

‘Ethan, for the love of God,’ she snapped. ‘I already told you to stop leaning over the frame! Do you realise how dangerous that is?’

‘No, Mum, you’ve got to look!’

‘Emma, darling,’ her husband whispered, a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘You should really look at this. It’s magnificent.’

Whatever it was, even her fifteen-year-old daughter - who had spent the last thirty minutes texting her friends back home without so much as a glance at the scenery - was jaw-slacked, so she slowly got up on her wobbly knees and peered over her shoulders.

In the shadow of a tree, protected from the sweltering heat, two lions were feasting on a zebra. Perhaps belatedly, as it’d taken her a second to drink the sight in, she realised that the poor thing was still alive: writhing as blood, red and hot and pulsing, gushed out from where the bigger lion - the male - had bitten into its back.

The smaller one, the female, soundlessly sank its teeth into the dying animal’s neck, and the latter gave one last weak kick, finally falling limp. When the lioness stood again, it was almost impossible, from this distance, to see her eyes amidst the bloodied mess on her face.

‘Oh, my God, Matt,’ Emma said. ‘This is beautiful. Nature truly is beautiful.’

‘You don’t really get to see this kind of show anywhere else today,’ their guide said from the driver’s seat. He sounded proud, as if he’d hunted and fed the zebra to the lions himself.

Alberto wasn’t wrong, Emma reasoned. Given that they were parked in the middle of the privately-owned biggest North American savanna, he - or rather, his employer - was the one effectively feeding the lions. Like feeding mice to cats. She glanced at her children, glad they could have a window on a reality that was long gone. To think it would have taken a trip around the world to watch this spectacle - imagine the motion sickness then! If only, she considered wistfully, there could be a way of replicating glaciers just as accurately.

‘Honestly, it seems a bit unfair that they get to eat real meat,’ Ethan said at the dinner table a few hours later. He was picking at his plate, moving the fried grasshoppers they’d been served for dinner around, but not really eating any. ‘While we are stuck with insects and microprotein or whatever.’

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. She was tired and sunburnt, her sensitive pale skin suffering under the blistering sun of the region, so different from the temperate weather back home North. She had a splitting headache, too. She was, yet again, at the so-called end of her tether. ‘Ethan…’

‘You should be glad you get to eat at all,’ her daughter said at the same time. ‘There’s a reason it’s illegal to eat meat. These animals are here for show, anyway. They were originally from Africa.’

‘Shut up, Becca,’ Ethan mumbled. ‘Everybody knows there are no animals in Africa. There’s nothing there.’

Becca’s cheeks were tinted pink, eyebrows furrowed. ‘Of course there were animals. There were animals everywhere before the Climate Crunch.’

‘Both of you, stop it,’ Matt interjected. ‘Ethan, your sister is right. You should be grateful that we are here in the first place. That said…’ He leant forward, voice down to a whisper: ‘I have a surprise for you. Or, well, Richard has a surprise for us. When he arrives tomorrow, he’ll bring us real meat. Bovine meat.’

‘But it’s illegal,’ said Becca.

‘It’s technically illegal,’ Matt acknowledged. ‘It’s not if you know how to get some and no one from Animal Conservation finds out. Do you think our president only eats insects? Please, Becca. Use that big brain of yours.’

‘Yes,’ Ethan snickered. ‘Use your brain, Becca.’

‘That is too generous,’ Emma said. ‘Inviting us here in the first place was, when even he hasn’t gotten here yet. Now this. I wouldn’t know how to repay him.’

Truly, all she felt was jealousy. Her guts twisted with the sheer force of it. Yes, she had known that Richard was comfortable. The gated, heavily guarded estate spanned for thousands of acres, comprised the 5000sqt villa they were staying at (five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a cinema, marble floors and solar panels on the rooftop), an indoor swimming pool inspired by vintage photos of Amalfi, two indoor tennis courts, and the savanna they’d explored earlier in the day. ‘The biggest conservation area in North America since they repurposed the Midwest,’ he’d bragged in a video call, two weeks before. ‘You will love it. The holiday you deserve. Make yourselves at home.’

But meat? He could get meat?

Matt’s family had designed DeNuketify, which was basically the only effective way of purifying ocean water from whatever nuclear waste Japan kept spewing so that it could be used and, most importantly, drunk. They had managed to flee the continent with the last handful of greencards about the time her family did, too, taking their precious Queen’s accent with them to found Nova London. She was the governor of Nova London now, for God’s sake. The bloody queen herself was long dead but she was alive, and yet, yet - they had never had meat.

‘We don’t have to, Emma,’ Matt said. ‘We just need to remember how lucky we are to enjoy this meal, this house, this holiday. Look at that,’ and he nodded towards the TV screen again. ‘Actually, Alexa!, volume up!, I think the Italians have finally surrendered.’

The war correspondent’s voice grew louder. She - they, Emma reminded herself: Becca always told her not to assume anyone’s gender - was wearing a dust mask and reading from a bundle of documents. ‘The last military hospital in the island of Palermo was destroyed four days ago by a Canadian airstrike,’ they were saying. ‘The rebels surrendered soon after, followed by the group of extremists in the Nebrodi island. Etna had already surrendered last year.’

‘It’s important to remember that these actions were necessary to finally put a rest on the instability of the region,’ they added. ‘Canada will fund a complete restoration of the Southern archipelago. The remaining civilians will be provided with a shelter and then, when the time comes, a suitable job. Nova Italia will be the sixteenth Canadian state, the fourth offshore. There are also hopes to extract petroleum from the seabed of the sunken city of Gela.’

‘Watch them make it into a holiday hotspot,’ Matt commented. ‘The weather is still nice there.’

‘Ooh, I heard about this.’ Becca picked her phone back up and started furiously typing away. ‘There’s this journal entry soldiers found over there, under the rubble, that’s gone viral. It was translated into English. Wait, I’ll pull it up. Alexa, volume down.’

‘I’m not sure I want to hear it,’ Emma said, uneasy. ‘We’re on holiday. Should we not watch a movie? Something funny?’

Becca waved her away, as if she was an annoying fly. ‘It’ll be good practice for my drama class.’

Matt didn’t help—he simply shrugged, half-apologetic, as if to say: Let her do her thing.

Becca made a show of clearing her throat, too, before she started reading from her phone—her high voice now grave, studied, as if she were speaking to a larger audience: ‘I wonder what peas taste like.’

Right then, the scene on screen changed to footage of what looked like a destroyed village, something out of an apocalyptic movie. Emma found herself unable to look away.

‘Nonna used to say that her own great-grandmother grew them in her garden. Figs, too,’ Becca read. ‘They say they were the sweetest fruit.’

Emma wondered if this journal was actually written by a child or a teenager. It didn’t sound like an adult at all. She couldn’t help but picture a girl, a brunette, not much older than Becca, perhaps a rebel, or a trainee nurse on the sweet cusp of adulthood, holding this journal of hers, or perhaps a gun. It violently reminded her that her own daughter, too, would have to serve her time in the Forces in three years.

On screen, the Canadian soldiers walked among the ruins, zigzagging between torn up clothes and discarded weapons, surely looking for surviving rebels under the rubbles.

‘Isn’t it silly that we can hear the fighters overhead and that all I can do is think about food?’ said Becca. ‘I wish we could also eat figs and be happy.’

On screen, the camera zoomed in on a long-forgotten man's shoe, some crumpled photographs, on a pile of bodies in black bin bags.

‘Grandma - I miss her - left me a poetry book, too, from T.S. Eliot. I hope the book is with me when I die, so I can give it back to her when we meet again, afterwards. So I can tell her that T.S. Eliot was wrong.’

On screen, one of the soldiers approached and showed a little trinket to the camera: a bloody, heart-shaped locket that must’ve once been golden, hiding the miniature pictures of two brunette children that would never have a name.

‘That’s enough,’ Emma said. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. ‘Stop reading.’

‘The world may have not ended with a bang, but it didn’t end with a whimper, either: the world didn’t end at all. Sometimes,’ Becca finished reading, ‘I wish it had.’

‘What a load of rubbish,’ Matt scoffed. ‘Everyone should feel lucky to be alive. I bet this journal is a fake. Alexa, turn the TV off.’

As the screen faded to black, Ethan finally popped a grasshopper in his mouth. ‘I can’t wait to have meat tomorrow.’

[cherienymphe]

Can’t Be Bought II (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Hey guys this is the final part! I don’t foresee myself doing any more Ransom fics, but who knows. I hope you all enjoy this!

WARNINGS: NON-CON! {IF THIS OFFENDS YOU PLEASE DNI! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}

Summary: You’ve gotten a job at the infamous Thrombey mansion with the help of your best friend Marta. It isn’t perfect, but it pays well. Your only true complaint takes the form of one Ransom Drysdale who seems to have had a problem with you from day one.

~

You were on edge as you wiped down the counter, uncharacteristically quiet as Fran worked around you. You could feel her eyes on you every now and again, but you pretended not to notice. You knew that she wanted to talk to you about your strange behavior but figured that she was just giving you space…or waiting for the right time to approach you. You dreaded the latter.

It had been two weeks since that night. The night that Ransom had given you a ride home, but not without pulling off to the side of the road to have his way with you first. Then again in your own bed when he dropped you off at home. You swallowed, recalling the way his hands pinned you down as he fucked you into your mattress, tainting what was once your only sanctuary.  

You’d woken up the next morning feeling worse than you’d ever had in your life. Sore spots littered your neck from where he’d paid too much attention, and your hips and thighs fared no better. You didn’t know what to do, and in the end, you’d decided to do nothing. You remembered his threats from that night, and you knew they weren’t empty.  He could very much ruin you.

You’d spent the last two weeks on autopilot, going to class like nothing had happened. Everything had almost seemed normal until the Thrombeys wanted you to come by last week to work for their party. You’d declined, an excuse of the flu popping out before you could stop yourself. Linda had seemed sympathetic, but you knew she was more upset they’d be down a set of hands more than anything. It had killed you to feign sick, because you needed the money.

That was how you found yourself present tonight. You desperately needed the money, and you couldn’t avoid this place forever unless you wanted to lose your job. And losing your job would do no good, because….

“Whatever you try, I’m going to have you, so make this easy on yourself, (Y/N).”

You sighed, washing your hands as you prepared to get the table ready for tonight.

“(Y/N), can you take these upstairs?”

You turned, watching in horror as Fran walked back into the kitchen with two luggage bags. The family was celebrating Meg’s birthday, so the house was going to be full and lively all weekend. Almost every member of the family had arrived, all except one. You swallowed as you recognized that luggage and took a step forward just as you heard a familiar voice booming from the living room.

With a strained smile, you nodded and swiftly grabbed the bags. You ignored Fran’s worried gaze as you hurried up the stairs, hoping to get upstairs and back down to the kitchen before you ran into anyone you didn’t want to. With a huff, you dropped them in the room Ransom always stayed in whenever he came over. You remembered the one time Jacob had tried to claim the room, and Ransom had almost pushed him down the stairs.

You turned to rush back downstairs only to yelp in shock as you almost collided with a familiar face. You stumbled back, pressing a hand to your chest as you stared at him. Your eyes were wide, lips pressed together as he smirked at you. He was wearing a thick, cream cable knit sweater, looking as put together and inviting as ever. You knew better though. His eyes always told a different story.

“(Y/N),” he greeted, eyes running over you in a way that made you shudder.

You simply nodded at him, clenching your jaw as you made your way towards the door. He caught your arm as you tried to walk past him, face only inches away from your own as he pulled you towards him.

“Where were you last week?”

His voice was hard, eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You tugged your arm, but his grip was unrelenting.

“I was sick,” you murmured, the lie coming out easily enough.

He raised on eyebrow in that condescending way that always annoyed you.

“…sick?”

“Yes, the flu. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” you bit out.

He hummed, one hand reaching up to brush along your waist.

“Do we need to get you a flu shot? I wouldn’t want you to get sick again,” he calmly replied, and you knew that he knew you were lying.

You looked away from his dark gaze, attempting to free yourself again.

“No,” you said, pulling on your arm still.

He ignored your struggles, stepping towards you until you were forced to back up.

“My bags must have been heavy,” he started, sliding his hand from your waist and to your shoulder, kneading the flesh there.

A panic began to rise in your chest as you pushed against him, but it was futile. You felt your back graze the wall behind you, and your heart sank to your stomach.

“Ransom, I’m working,” you hissed.

“It’s hilarious that you think I care,” he sneered, pressing his lips against yours.

You turned your head with a gasp, fighting to grab his hand as it made its way beneath your shirt.

“Stop it,” you snapped, although it came out more as a plea.

His hand suddenly had yours in a painful grip, and you whimpered as the other came up to squeeze your jaw. His eyes were cold, determined as he glared at you.

“You do as I say, remember? I own you…”

He jostled your chin, pressing you further into the wall.

“You’re lucky I’m being discreet. With that stunt you pulled last week, I should fuck you for my whole family to hear,” he spat.

“Ransom-.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you weren’t sick,” he said just before pressing his lips to the skin of your neck.

You screwed your eyes shut, bucking against him as he pressed his teeth down, drawing a gasp from you. His fingers drew patterns against your skin, and you shook when his fingers danced along the edge of your jeans.

You were worried that Fran would come looking for you soon, and you didn’t know how you would explain this to her. You didn’t get a chance to protest again because soon his lips were on yours again. He let go of your wrist, pressing his thumb against your neck as he slid his hand down the front of your pants. Fortunately for you, a noise came from the door just before his fingers brushed along your underwear.

Ransom pulled away, and your eyes widened when you saw none other than Jacob standing in the open doorway. His mouth was parted, smartphone in hand, as he looked over you two in disgust.

“What-?”

You never got to hear what he had to say because you took the distraction as a moment to slip from Ransom’s grasp. You maneuvered your way out of his wandering hand as he reached out to you, rushing past Jacob without a backwards glance.

.

.

.

You had somehow managed to avoid Ransom for the rest of the evening. You weren’t sure what he’d told Jacob, but you were grateful for it because the teenage Nazi hadn’t said a word about what he saw, nor did he hardly acknowledge you. For a while, you thought that luck was on your side, and you’d get to go home without dealing with Ransom for the rest of the night.

Then the rain came. Not only that, but the rain brought the thunder and lightning and heavy winds with it. You gulped as you clutched your coat in your hand, looking outside of the window forlornly.

“Jesus, it’s really coming down out there, huh?” Richard mused, nursing a brandy.

You eyed the brown liquid, remembering that night before suddenly glancing away. Your throat was thick with worry as you prepared yourself to drive in that.

“It’s…it’s not that bad,” you argued, pulling your coat on.

It was then that Linda stepped out of the kitchen, a frown on her face, and you cursed.

“Oh, (Y/N) honey, no. You can’t go out in that! It’s insane out there,” she said, reaching out to help you out of your jacket.

You stepped away, tugging it closed.

“It’s really not that bad. It’s just…drizzling,” you poorly argued with a chuckle.

At that moment, a particularly bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, accompanied by a rumble of thunder.

“No, sweetie, she’s right. It’s like…a monsoon out there. You can’t go out there. It’s way too dangerous,” Joni drawled.

In your peripheral, you saw a figure come to stand in the doorway of the living room. You glanced over, eyes connecting with those of Ransom as he folded his arms over his chest, staring you down. You nervously looked away just as Meg approached.

“I have to get home-.”

“(Y/N), don’t be ridiculous. Just stay the night here. You’re going to be working here all weekend, anyway,” Meg said with a shrug, reaching for your coat.

This time you were unsuccessful, and she slipped it off of you as you swallowed, heart pounding in your chest at the feel of familiar eyes boring into you.

“Guys, I can’t-.”

“Nonsense! Meg’s right. You should totally just stay the night here. We have plenty of rooms in this big ole place,” Joni waved you off.

You fought to keep your eyes off of Ransom as he watched the whole exchange. No doubt, with a smirk in his face.

“I…I don’t have any clothes,” you protested with a shrug.

Meg rolled her eyes, tugging on your arm.

“You can just borrow something of mine,” she argued.

You bit your lip, glancing at Ransom again, unsurprised to find him still staring at you. Only he wasn’t smirking like you had originally thought. His lips were pressed together, eyes focused on you with a carnal hunger that terrified you. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from him, sick to your stomach. You were officially out of arguments.

“Okay,” you murmured, and Meg beamed as she pulled you towards her room.

.

.

.

You shut the door behind you with a sigh, turning to lock it when your eyes widened. There was no lock on the door. Your lips trembled, lashes fluttering before you took a deep breath and turned around. You dragged your hands down your face as you fought off tears.

You prayed that, miraculously, you’d be left alone tonight. You were hopeful, but not naïve. If Ransom was bold enough to try and have sex with you while his family was downstairs, you knew he’d have no qualms about doing the same while they were all asleep.

You laid in bed for what felt like hours, preparing yourself and waiting. In reality, it could have only been an hour at the most. Your nerves were on end, just wanting to get the whole disgusting ordeal over with, but after a while sleep started to come for you. You tried to fight it, but eventually told yourself that maybe Jacob walking in on the two of you had spooked Ransom. Maybe he didn’t want to chance it…

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for, but when you were pulled back into consciousness, it was by the feel of familiar lips wrapping around your hardened bud. It took you a while to get your bearings, to truly understand what was happening. There was a fire in between your legs, stroked by long fingers, a weight pressing into you.

You groaned, turning your head and blindly reaching out to push against the weight when your hands were suddenly caught in an iron grip. You awoke with a start, eyes widening as you finally put the pieces together. You hissed when he pressed his hips against yours, realizing with a fright that you were naked. The oversized t-shirt that Meg had found for you was thrown somewhere, leaving Ransom as your only source of warmth as he caged in in against the mattress.

Before you could speak, his lips descended over your own, smothering them in a heated kiss. You squirmed when the head of his cock brushed against your heated core. You shuddered, the sensitivity of it shooting straight through you, and you wondered how long he’d been in here.

“I was looking forward to seeing you last weekend,” he whispered into the darkness.

“I was-.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “It’s insulting.”

Just then, a flash of lightning lit up the room, showcasing his hard features and you cringed away from the sinister look in his eyes.

“I should fuck your ass raw, you know that?”

You started struggling again, but his grip was firm.

“…but I won’t. I’ll let it slide. I was a bit rough with you…but you just drive me crazy,” he groaned, leaning down to trail his lips along your shoulder.

You stared up at the ceiling, resigned to your fate as he began to push himself inside of you.

“I bid my time, and now I finally have you. You’re mine, (Y/N). Do you understand that?”

A gasp escaped your lips when he shoved himself to the hilt, thighs pressing into yours as you turned your head away.

“I expect you to be here whenever we need you. No more lies, no more excuses. The next time you claim you’re too sick to work, I’ll just have to come and check on you myself,” he threatened, thrusting inside of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut when the room lit up again, the visual of him hovering over you burned into your brain. He finally let go of your wrists, leaning over until his bare chest pressed against your own, hands pulling on your hair as he panted into your ear.

You didn’t like this angle. The brushes against your clit were sending fire through your veins, toes curling and teeth clenching as you fought off the pleasure. Your head was pulled back as his hips kept your pinned to the bed. You could hardly move, only able to dig your nails into his side as he fucked you into the soft mattress.

How could you ever think that Ransom wasn’t capable of…this? How could you have been so naïve that night? In all the time you’d known him, Ransom had never done a single thing out of the kindness of his heart. He liked having power over a people, a hold over them, and since that first day you’d met him, you had refused to give him any sort of power. But Ransom was just the type to take it.

A strangled moan slipped past your lips as you felt your climax approaching. Ransom heard it, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke.

“That’s it, (Y/N). Accept it…”

You fought against it, reaching in between you two to push him away, but he wasn’t having that. He gripped both of your wrists, sitting up as he pressed them against your stomach while his other hand found a home on your throat. He picked up his pace, and you whimpered, attempting to press your thighs together, feet pushing against his hips.

“Come on, (Y/N). Don’t be like that… Just accept it and make both of our lives so much easier,” he urged.

Your chest was heaving, legs trembling as he pounded into you.

“I can make you feel like this all the time,” he growled. “Just me, and no one else.”

You pulled against his harsh grip, gasping when he slammed into you, balls slapping against your skin. He finally let your hands go, only to press his own into the base of your spine, arching your back up as he bent down and sank his teeth into the skin of your chest. You thrashed against him, trembling in his arms as your orgasm hit you like truck. You bit your lip hard enough to hurt, nails dragging down his arms, a low hiss escaping him as he emptied himself inside of you.

Your legs were still shaking when he lowered you down to the mattress, harsh breaths in sync with your own. He suddenly chuckled, pressing open mouth kisses to your dewy skin. His hands were tight on your waist as his mouth descended. Another flash brightened the room, just as your eyes connected with his.

“You’ll come around. I have all the time in the world to fuck you into submission.”

 ~

Tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @sebabestianstan101

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Operation Overlord

Dad, Mum, and Evelyn,

I never know what to write to you before going into another battle and this one is no different. By the time you receive this letter, Operation Overlord will be long into fruition. It’s 4am right now and no one can sleep…we’re all up and anxious. I miss you three so much right now, it’s unbelievable. I’m not going to pretend I’m not scared out of my wits but I also don’t want to worry you. It’s been four years…what’s just one more day, right? Nothing we haven’t been dealing with between the Battle of Britain and the fights in Malta. I just miss home – so much so that I’m tired of even complaining about being away for so long. I’m just so, so tired of all of this fighting and this hostility and this world we’re forced to live in. We’re going to be flying right into enemy controlled territory in two hours…flying right into Hitler’s grasp and ready and willing to look death in the face.

Nothing’s guaranteed anymore; that’s one thing that I’ve learned these past few years. I don’t expect this to be a goodbye letter and I pray that it won’t be, but it very well might be. Just know that I’m grateful for you, the life you have given me, and I hope the three of you know how much I cherish and love you. I have our family photograph tucked in my uniform pocket. You’re already with me.

All my love, always,

Charles Christian

June 6, 1944 – RAF Deanland Base, 0545hr

The flight prep was oddly quiet that morning. The ground crew worked to finish the routine checks of the planes with the pilots following for a second look over, the officers taking attendance as pairs of pilots arrived from the bunkhouses, and everything was getting set. Charlie and Richie hadn’t slept much the night before, taking up their time writing a letter home before they were called through the lightening sky towards the runway. The Spitfires and a few Hurricanes were lined up at the ready, each painted in thick black and white stripes around the wings and Richie ran his hand over the dried paint that coated their deep green jet.

He glanced up at the hand that was held out to him, Charlie standing on the wing and offering a lift up to join him. Richie sent his best friend a small smile and let him pull him up as well and they walked the few steps carefully towards the cockpit. They tugged their helmets on in perfect silence as the ground crew helped them get their parachutes intact and helped to shuffle them into their seats. Richie fell with a strained sigh into his spot behind Charlie and he found it hard to set his goggles on with how terribly his hands were shaking.

Their commanding officer climbed up on the wing to make sure they were accounted for, eyeing their crisp unforms and brand-new plane they were in, “Seavey and Besson.”

“Yessir.” they both answered in unison.

“Looking good, men. Few more minutes and we’ll head for takeoff once we get word from the Air Marshall.”

Charlie and Richie offered a salute to him as he moved onto the next plane in the lineup. Charlie checked his watch, signaling ten minutes before takeoff. He sighed and drummed his fingers against his knees anxiously.

Richard’s hand weaseling its way between his seat and the window had Charlie cracking a small smile and he reached back to give his best friend’s hand a reassuring squeeze as they shared a formal handshake.

“Kings of the Clouds, Charlie.” Richard said.

“That we are, Richie.”

At promptly 0600, each refueled Spitfire was lined up at the runway and ready to head for France, propellors whirling and the base filled with the steady familiar drone of engines. The control tower soon gave the go-ahead and one by one, the jets took off into the sky. It was still mostly dark at the first glimpse of the clouds and Charlie and Richie found their prior assigned spot between two other planes, making their way steadily out of England, leaving their unaware families behind.

The two best friends stayed quiet for a bit, just gathering their thoughts and processing what they might be flying right into. They stayed low in order to be able to see the incoming targets along the heavily fortified coast as well as the first glimpse of the British and American navies and armies below them making their way along the calm water. 156 000 clueless men ready to stare death in the face.

“Charlie.”

“Yeah, Richie?”

“Look at the sunrise.”

Charlie looked slightly to the left out of the front window to see the orange pink smudges of the rising sun along the distant horizon. He smiled lightly, “Sure is beautiful.”

The calm and the quiet before the storm.

But the storm came quickly.

Down on the water, the army was mowed down like sitting ducks by the Germans on the higher ground, barely even able to step out of the ships before they were shot back by machine gun fire and shells. The ring of bullets flying could nearly be heard by the men in the sky but their resistance came a few moments later.

“Alright, Richie?” Charles asked as they spotted the incoming Germany air force.

“Yeah…alright, Charlie.” Richard answered shakily, slowly shifting his hands to the controls. “Aim it?”

Charlie took a moment to find a target and locked it in, “Landed.”

“Let’s go.” Richie breathed.

The battle seemed to break out all in unison as the air was filled with machine gun fire and the roar of propellors. They couldn’t worry about the men on the beaches with the enemy right in the air with them but after four years, Richard and Charles worked more than well together.

“Take it up, Charlie. Too many around us. Let’s dive them.” Richie said loudly over the noise, keeping his eye out as Charlie pulled them up closer to the clouds before sweeping around and they shot a nice clean curve of bullets along a streak of German jets. One was a direct hit and exploded right in mid air.

“Holy shit! That’s the stuff, Richie!” Charlie laughed as they pulled up again.

They turned around to head back around towards the beaches, sharing orders and supporting solid fire to help their other squadron members when they needed it. They were truly the kings of the clouds. But the Germans put up a solid fight and they weren’t making themselves easy targets, making the RAF’s job much more difficult.

“I can’t land this guy, Rich. Gimmie another.” Charlie said after yet another failed attempt of targeting one of the Luftwaffe. “We’re going to waste all our ammo on this one guy.”

“One’s on our tail. We gotta loose him first.” Richard said quickly.

“Alright, pull up.” Charlie said, easily using the Spitfire’s most well-known quality of easy ascension and it pulled them right up towards the clouds before curving around to try and retaliate.

“He’s still there. Might have to flip backwards.” Richard suggested quickly.

The fire of machine guns had them flinching, especially as their plane was hit, the clanging of the bullets on the metal really shaking them into gear. Charlie didn’t even wait before pulling right back and flipping them upside down over the German plane to try and get out of the line of fire. That only worked for so long because the other pilot anticipated that move and met them halfway with another sheet of bullets.

“Can someone give us some damn backup?” Charlie asked loudly to no one in particular as they tried to sweet around to get a few shots at the enemy.

“Just get him gone, Charlie!” Richard encouraged, gripping tighter onto the joystick as the plane rattled with another round of shots from the opposing jet.

Charlie tasted something salty and it was only then that he realised he was sweating, thick drops trickling down his temples and cheeks and onto his lips. The sweat of pure fear and it was disgustingly salty. There felt like no way out and they were nearly flying in circles. Charlie tried to turn them around back onto the enemy but they were hit from the side by a second jet, igniting their right wing into a burst of flames.

“Bleeding fucking Christ!” Richie shrieked, raw fear apparent in his voice, “Charlie, what do we do?!”

Charles couldn’t even answer as the next wave of bullets nearly knocked their propellor clean off and in mere seconds, they were nose diving towards the cost of France, unable to steer the plane nearly at all. They were going to crash.

“Parachutes, Richard! Now!” Charlie screamed, throwing off his belt and forced open the top window of the cockpit, the hot air from the flames tumbling into the tiny space.

Richard struggled to unclasp his belt with his hands shaking and his clammy palms slipping over the metal buckle and it was hard to concentrate on anything else but his loud heartbeat in his ears. “Charlie-”

The ground was coming closer and closer by the millisecond and they didn’t even have time to jump it if they had wanted to…there wasn’t enough distance.

“Brace for it, Richie!” Charlie ordered loudly, throwing his arms over his head helplessly as their plane crashed nose first into the cold French soil.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx​ @hopinglimelight​ @jonahlovescoffee​ @hiya-its-amber​ @chanelwonders​

[anjuschiffer]

Moving On and a Final Goodbye

I just adore torturing myself with my own writing :)

For Maribat March Day 19- Theme: Nightmares

@-@-@-@-@-@-

Context: Marinette lives in Gotham with the Bats, who know nothing of her former life. Only Damian knows, but it’s not his secret to tell.

Warning: DEATH

@-@-@-@-@-@-

AO3

@-@-@-@-@-@-

A piercing scream rang through the halls of the manor, prompting everyone to wake up, dashing for their weapons and out their respective rooms, Damian quickly turning a corner.

If he recalled, that scream sounded like it came from Marinette’s room. He hopes it was just a nightmare… he hoped she was okay...

When he got to her room, the door was slightly ajar, Damian carefully creeped towards it, hearing someone sing. 

“Little kitty on the rooftop 

without his Lady.” 

A shaky breath.

“Sitting here all alone

awaiting for her return.” 

Damian set his weapon aside and pushed the door open, letting out a shuddering sigh. Marinette was fine… but he knew that was just a lie to trick himself into believing that she was indeed fine.

There was Marinette, sitting in the middle of her oversized bed, a blanket thrown tightly over her. Her comforters were on the floor, her plushies scattered across the room and her pillows knocked about where she had thrashed around the bed. Meanwhile Marinette stared at the floor, slightly rocking herself as she continued to sing to herself. 

“Everything seems to move 

Slowly but steadily.”

Damian heard a creak at the door, seeing Tim and Dick enter the room with caution, lowering their weapons- a lamp pole and gun respectively. 

“Yet here he remains 

Sitting patiently for his Lady.” 

Marinette continued to rock herself, comforting herself by rubbing her arms. Her eyes now shifted to the walls across from her, the rocking slowly came to a stop.

“What’s going on Damian?” Bruce asked as he stepped into the room, Alfred behind him with a rifle at hand and musket at his side. Whoever made his godchild scream like that was going to die tonight.

“The wind peppers him with kisses

The sunlight hugging him.”

Everyone just stared at Marinette as she quietly sang, looking at Damian for answers. And he gave them one. 

“I don’t know.” He looked back at Marinette, watching as tears slowly took turns to fall, plopping onto the sheets. 

“Keeping him company 

Until she arrives.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jason asked, but Damian ignored the question. “You were the first one to get here, Demon Spawn.”

“He'd wait for eternity if he had to

Just to see her once again.”

“Are you sure Damian?” Bruce asked, and Damian avoided his father’s eyes. “You know, don’t you?”

“And he does see her.”

“You know don’t you?” Richard repeated, Damian having to dig his nails into his palm to keep himself from telling them. It wasn’t his story to tell. It was hers.

“Tell us so that we can help her!” Jason exclaimed. Damian realized he said that last part out loud.

“M’lady, you’re here. Welcome back.”

“Damian, say something.” Tim urged, noticing that everyone was getting on edge by Damian’s silence. Damian couldn’t tell them. He promised her he wouldn’t.

“Damian, please tell us,” Richard begged. Damian resisted the urge to cry as he saw tears build up in Richard’s eyes. Didn’t he know it hurt him too?

“Smiling while he said it.”

He watched silently as Jason pushed everyone aside. “Tell us already Damian!” Jason yelled into his face, shaking Damian by his shoulders. “She’s suffering… how long do you want her to stay like this?” It was Jason’s trailing voice that finally made him break.

“Smiling as he slipped into her embrace.”

Averting his gaze to prevent the others from worrying, Damian finally spoke as tears trailed down his face.

“Her warmth- the only thing that kept him going.

“From slipping into the eternal darkness inside of him.”

“Ever since she left Paris, she has been having nightmares, almost once a night… sometimes multiple times.” He let out a dry laugh as more tears cascaded. “They’re not even nightmares,” he looked at his family and then at Mari, “They’re her memories from her former life... from her past.”

“For his Lady was his savior, his Love.

Whom he’d love until his dying days...”

“Memories from her battles in her old life.” Tim finally pieced, the family now in silence as they absorbed what they had learned. How long was she suffering in utter silence? Why didn’t they know this sooner? Didn’t she trust them? Weren’t they family?

The family pondered on what to do next, not noticing that Mari was looking at them now, her face drenched in tears, yet her eyes weren’t red nor puffy. 

“Marinette.” Damian soft spoke, walking up to her, cupping her face into his hands, pressing his forehead against hers. But she didn’t respond nor budge. Her eyes were misty, the tears still falling.

“Do you mind if-” Richard asked, Damian realizing he took a seat at the edge of the bed. Damian parted from Mari, giving a nod to his brother.

With a gentle smile, Richard scooted closer to Mari.

“Mari, did you write that song?” 

Everyone held their breath as they awaited an answer. None was given.

“It was a lovely song… did you write it?” Richard asked again, a faint hope blossoming in him when he saw Marinette’s eyes flutter.

“That… that was Chat’s lullaby.” Marinette spoke, looking out towards her balcony. “He’d always sing it when he’d wait for me during our night patrols.” 

Everyone looked at each other except Damian. Night patrols?

“Chat must be pretty talented for composing something like that.” Dick praised, watching as Marinette nodded in agreement, a small smile on her face.

“He really was.” Her smile faltered, but was soon overtaken by a quivering frown, a sob escaping her lips. “He really was.” A wail escaped her lips, more tears quickly pouring.

“Mari…”

“He was the most caring person I had in my life, the kindness and most well-rounded boy I loved during my last year in lycee.” Marinette stated, wiping away her tears. “He was my best friend, the love of my life and I-”

“Marinette, breath.” Richard softly said, rubbing her back. But she didn’t listen.

“I-I-I let him down. I… I broke our promise… I never got to tell him that I was sorry. That I was sorry for never returning his feelings even though I wanted to. For lying to him for keeping our identities a secret even though I knew everyone’s identities, even his.” Marinette cried some more, Damian now approaching her and sat beside her.

“To tell him that I was willing to tarnish my reputation as a designer to keep him safe from his father, that I knew what was happening to him at home, that I was willing to rip him from that man’s hands and get my hands dirty just to keep him safe.” She felt someone rub circles onto her back, the urge to wail getting stronger. “That he was the one I was most grateful for, for being at my side when the whole world was against me, when my parents started to doubt me and…” Marinette wiped away her tears, looking up at her family, crying harder when she saw the sorrow in their eyes.

Alfred remained stoic, but she knew he was trying to be strong for everyone. Bruce was silently crying along with Tim and Jason… she’s never seen him cry and seeing that- that made her want to go over to him and tell her everything was fine… that she was fine, but she knew that was a lie she had been telling herself since the beginning. 

“I wanted to tell him that I would never leave his side, no matter what happened.” Marinette looked at her hands, stained with red, black leather glitching in her sight. “But I never did… not even as he died in my arms.”

-----

The fight was over. After years of fighting Hawk Moth, the war was over and done with.

Now free from their duties as heroes, Marinette has decided to finally tell Chat how she feels about him and to reveal herself to him.

Waiting for him at the top of the Tribunal de Grande Instance de Paris, Mari let the summer breeze kiss her skin, her long hair gently swaying behind her. Her white sundress made her stick out in the green rooftop garden, a tiny patch of sunflowers surrounding her. 

The view from the garden was magnificent, even though she had been there plenty of times as Ladybug. But Ladybug never had the time to lean on the rails and soak in the wonders of Paris.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Mari turned with a smile, thinking it was her beloved Chaton, but that smile faltered when she saw it wasn’t him. She was too shocked to save herself as she fell over the railing, the unknown figure grinning at her before running away, and Chat now looking at her fall. His face was white a sheet, his pupils shrinking as her sunhat drifted in the wind.

“MARINETTE!”

Desperately, Chat jumped after her, holding her close to him as he attempted to find a way to save her, but he knew his time was running out.

Marinette watched as he detransformed in front of her, her eyes dilating as she saw the man behind the mask.

“A...drien?”

“Surprised, Princess?” Adrien said with a weak chuckle. That’s when her eyes landed on Plagg.

“Plagg?!”

“You can see- nevermind! Wish we met again under different circumstances, but I really need you to listen to me Mari.” Adrien states, slipping off his ring and placing it on Mari’s left ring finger. 

“Adrien, what are-”

“There’s no time!” Adrien yelled, Mari catching the crack in his voice. He wasn’t-

“Adrien, don’t, don’t do it… don’t do it!” Marinette cried out, watching as the ground was getting closer to them.

“Plagg! As your master, I demand you to let Mari use the ring! Transform her into Chat Noir!”

“Adrien! NO!”

“As you wish.” Plagg quietly said, nuzzling Adrien before a light blinded everyone, the crowd at the base of the Tribunal de Grande Instance de Paris screaming as a crater was formed in the ground.

Mari’s eyes fluttered as she woke, realizing that Plagg was crying somewhere in the distance. It only took a second to realize what had happened. Scampering to her feet, Mari looked for Adrien, the man a few feet away from her, Marinette’s breath stuck inside her as she clasped her hands to her mouth.

No… not him… why… WHY?!

“ADRIEN!” Marinette screamed, running the boy, scooping him up into her arms, her hands getting covered in the blood that seeped from his head and cuts around his body.

“Adrien wake up! Adrien. ADRIEN!” Marinette wailed into his body, jolting when she felt something on her cheek. Looking up, she realized he was smiling.

“Don’t… cry.” He whispered to her. “Keep living… for me…” Adrien closed his eyes. “Love… you…” His hand slipped from her face, Marinette rushing to grab it, to hold it for a bit longer.

He couldn’t leave her, he can’t leave her by herself! What was she going to do without him? What was she going to do without her beloved Cat?!

The sounds of the ambulance drowned out her thoughts as he was quickly taken from her and to never again see until the day of his funeral, which only his aunt, his cousin and herself were present for.

-----

“Mari.” Jason softly spoke, crouching down so that Marinette could see him. He caressed her cheek. “I’m pretty sure he already knew that.” She looked at her brother with glossed eyes, his own mirroring the same thing. “After all, he sacrificed himself for you. He told you to live on for him.” Mari sniffled. “If he didn’t know this, if you didn’t mean so much for him, he would’ve probably found a way to make sure the both of you got away with minimal damage.” Jason patted her head as she wiped the tears that incomed. “You meant so much to him that he rather let himself get hurt over losing you.” Jason raised her head up, lifting her chest. “So forgive yourself Mari, live for him with happiness so that he can also live happily through you.” Marinette hiccupped, throwing herself to Jason, causing the two to fall to the floor.

“You kept your promise Mari.” Richard added, smiling upon seeing Mari looking up towards everyone. “You were with him until the end. Now, complete the wish he left behind, okay?” Marinette nodded.”

“I will try.”

-----

The night’s wind howled, the ringing of a bell jiggled with laughter.

Looking through the glass window, Chat looked at Marinette sleeping soundly in the arms of her new found family, smiling that she’s finally healing. They huddled against each other, one way or another, wrapped in blankets and hugging pillows, making sure that Mari knew they were there for her, although Damian was the one spooning her and kicked anyone who dared to get close.

He was glad she finally found somewhere to call home, something he feared she would not find. He was glad she was able to love again… even if it hurted him a bit.

Looking up towards the moon, Chat decided it was okay for him to sit on the balcony, longing to remember what the wind felt like across his face during a winter’s night. 

It probably felt cold, not like it affected him, but he knew it affected his Lady a lot. Something about finally merging with the Ladybug’s nature.

Closing his eyes, Chat smiled and opened his mouth to sing one final time.

“Little kitty on the rooftop without his lady.

Sitting here all alone, waiting for her return.

Everything seems to move slowly, but steadily.

Yet here he remains, sitting patiently for his Lady.

The wind peppers him with kisses

The sunlight hugging him

Keeping him company 

Until she arrives.

He'd wait for eternity if he had to.

Just to see her once again .

And he does see her,

“M’lady, you’re here. Welcome back.” 

Smiling while he said it

Smiling as he slipped into her embrace.

Her warmth- the only thing that kept him going.

From slipping into the eternal darkness inside of him.

For his Lady was his savior, his Love.

Whom he’d love until his dying days...

He smiles as he kisses her, her giggles ringing in his ears.

He soaks it all in as he slips into darkness

Never to see his Lady again.”

[freddiesaysalright]

The Most Dramatic Season Ever - Week 1

Summary: It’s your time now! You are ABC’s new Bachelorette and this is your journey! All these men (including our fav BoRhap boys and then some) are competing for your heart! Will you find love? Will you get engaged at the end? Or will you end up heartbroken? Find out, on the most dramatic season ever!

Word Count: 6k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @anincurablefangirl​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @moon-stars-soul​, @danadeacon​, @deacyblues​, @thesundrop​, @cupidben​, @lostlittlenerd​, @delilahmay39​, @mazzellodeaky​, @queenmylovely​, @loveandbeloved29​, @free-pool-trash​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: It’s the first week of dates! This chapter, I’ve inserted pictures and captions for the “talking head” portions of the show.

Warning(s): Mentions of drug use. Mentions of cheating.

Night 1

Week 1 here we go!!!

The guys were all settled around the living room, sipping coffee and chatting casually. There was a bit of an anxious murmur about them as a date card was coming, they just weren’t sure when. A date card meant more time with you, especially if they got a one on one date. Group dates were fun, but they meant competing for your attention. They already had to do that at cocktail parties before rose ceremonies. It wasn’t ideal for quality time with you.

Taron: I really want to see Y/N, but if it’s a group date, I’m hoping my name’s not on the card. I’m holding out that I’ll be the one on one this week. It’s just - I’ve already got a massive crush on this girl. I want to know her more and show her my heart as well. We just won’t have the time on a group date.

Finally, that knock on the door came. Wells jumped up and got the card. He returned to the living room and eagerly opened the envelope. He smiled and a nervous twinge stirred in the men. Which was it?

“Rami,” he began.

Rami held his breath. He didn’t want to celebrate too soon in case it was a group date.

Wells continued. “Joe, Ben, Gwilym, Allen, Richard, Eric, Luke, Kenny, Mike, Wells, and Jordan. Don’t be shy, spill your secrets. Love, Y/N.”

That left Jared, John, John Paul Jones, Taron, and a few other men (Colton, Lincoln, Chad, and Chris) for the potential one on one. Taron crossed his fingers and hoped that this meant it was him. 

“Well, we can’t be too disappointed, guys,” said Joe. “I know it’s a group date but that just means you have to make the time you have with her count.”

They all got up to start getting ready for the date. Joe looked over at Ben, who was combing his hair carefully into place. Joe clapped him on the back.

“You don’t even have to do much, dude, you’re ridiculous,” Joe said.

Ben chuckled. “I need to stand out to her.”

“Yeah, but you’re making the rest of us look like jackasses,” Joe replied.

The group all laughed and then headed out to the limo that would take them to meet you wherever you were waiting for them. As they all clamored in, they began speculating what the date card could mean.

“Maybe she wants us to share something we haven’t shared before,” Richard suggested.

“Yeah, but that could be anything,” Gwilym pointed out. “We’re all still getting to know her.”

“It’s honestly so vague,” Rami said. “How can we even hope to guess?”

They pulled up to a small theater in downtown Los Angeles. You stood outside the door, and the men all cheered once they saw you. Joe rolled down the window and you waved to them as they stopped, laughter on your lips and in your eyes. You were really excited for this date, and for the opportunity for these guys to show more of themselves to you.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted as they exited the car. 

Allen was the first one out and he rushed over to pull you into a hug. He spun you around in his arms and you laughed with joy. The others trailed behind and greeted you more subtly with gentle embraces and cheek kisses.

“I’m so glad you guys made it,” you said. “So, something that’s important to me in finding a partner is laughing together.”

They murmured their agreement back to you.

“Sharing laughter is a really underappreciated form of intimacy,” you said. “As well as - y’know - actual intimacy. They go hand in hand. So what I want you guys to do for me today is think of the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you during sex, write it down in an amusing little anecdote, and then, we’re all going to share them on stage when we’re done.”

“Wait, is there gonna be an audience?” Ben asked.

You nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Ben: This date makes me extremely nervous. I’m quite a private person when it comes to my sex life, and sharing stuff like that - especially with a girl I want to potentially marry - it’s a bit odd.

Joe: Honestly, most of my sexual experiences are funny, so I think I’ve got this one in the bag.

“Are y’all ready to get started?” you asked them.

They all cheered their affirmation and then followed you inside. Once in the theater, they were all given a legal pad and a pen. They scattered throughout the space to begin writing, and you made the rounds, stopping to chat a little with everyone and see how they were doing.

You took a seat beside Gwilym.

“Hey,” you chirped. “How’s it going over here?”

“Hello, beautiful,” he replied. “It’s going alright. I’m quite a romantic so it’s difficult to come up with an example of something funny.”

You smiled at him. “I like that you’re a romantic. But the story doesn’t have to be something super raunchy or anything. Just, anytime you laughed with your partner.”

“Are you sure you want to hear stories of us with other women?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “Your past makes you who you are. And that’s just the information I want to know about you.”

“Well, for future reference, you may ask me anything you like,” he said. 

“I think I can drum up a question or two,” you returned. “I’ll leave you to it.”

You continued on to the next man, just checking in. They only had about ten minutes to write their story before the audience would be allowed in. You were really looking forward to this to see what their sense of humor was like, and how well they dealt with discussing things that were awkward. When the time finally came, you sat between Allen and Richard while the audience filled in around you and the men. The first person up was Eric.

Eric told a story about his first time, which was a disaster. It was really good and made you laugh. You snorted when Kenny got up and admitted that his daughter had walked in on him and her mother once. Allen said he once slept with a girl who admitted afterward that she only went home with him because she had a thing for Irish guys after seeing Gerard Butler in P.S. I Love You. Everyone had great stories, and your cheeks were already hurting from smiling. Then, Joe got up there.

“I once hooked up with a girl I picked up at a bar,” he began. “Sounds pretty typical. Anyway, we go back to her place, things are getting hot and heavy, and I realize I don’t have a condom. So, she tells me she has some in her bathroom. I find them, rip one open and realize - this girl has glow in the dark condoms.”

You chuckled and waited for him to continue.

“I put one on, and honest to God said to myself ‘It’s like a lightsaber,’” he said. “But the story doesn’t end there. I walked back into her bedroom, swinging my dick back and forth and making the sound effects while I walked toward her.”

You howled at this point, tossing your head back as you laughed.

“The worst part was that she didn’t understand the reference,” he finished. “Needless to say, we only spent the one night together.”

He came off the stage and you dabbed at your eyes. You were grateful for your waterproof mascara.

The rest of the men went, one by one. Gwilym seemed to hesitate in his story and you made a mental note to ask him about it later. All of them had you in stitches by the end. Then came a guy named Luke’s turn. Luke really intrigued you, so you watched him curiously as he stood behind the microphone.

“Hi, everyone,” he began. “I don’t have a story like this, I’m afraid. Because I’m actually a born-again virgin.”

The theater was suddenly thick with discomfort.

“I’ve been saved by my relationship with Jesus, and therefore abstain from sex before marriage.”

Rami: Yeah… Luke made things really weird.

“I am saving my body for one woman,” Luke went on. “That woman who is meant to be my wife. I hope that woman is Y/N.”

You shifted awkwardly in your seat. This was not the direction you were expecting this date to go. No one was laughing anymore and the mood had switched entirely.

“All of you - if you open your hearts to Christ - you can be saved as well,” he continued. “With that grace, you can be truly fulfilled, instead of losing yourselves to temptations. Thank you.”

A painfully unpleasant silence followed. The only sounds were his footsteps as he returned to his seat.

Richard: I sort of wanted to laugh at first. I thought, he’s got to be f***ing joking. But, no, he was serious. Which almost makes it funnier, in a way.

You sprang up from your seat and rushed to the stage, trying to recover the situation. You thanked the audience for listening and the men for sharing. Then you left the theater to prepare for the evening portion of the date.

Back at the house, the remaining men were waiting for the date card. Everyone wanted it to be their own name, but Taron wanted it the most. When Chris Harrison showed up, everyone was on edge as he placed the date card on the coffee table.

“To whoever gets the date,” he said. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

Jared jumped up and snatched the envelope as Chris left. All eyes were on the former as he broke the seal and removed the card. He looked disappointed, and Taron’s heart leapt. So Jared’s name wasn’t on the card.

“Taron,” Jared read. “Do you believe in magic? Love, Y/N.”

Taron pumped his fist in the air while the other guys congratulated him. He took the card and read over the words, heart racing as he tried to decipher the meaning. What kind of date involved magic? He didn’t think it was a magic show or anything like that. No matter what it was, he was excited.

Back on the date, the sun had gone down and you were joining the men on a rooftop bar that was reserved for all of you. There was a large, wrap around couch where you could all sit. In the center of it was a fire pit, with a warm fire already crackling. You all got your drinks and you took a seat between Luke and Ben.

“Thanks for a very entertaining day, you guys,” you said. “I feel like I already know each of you a little better, and I just want to learn more. Here’s to a great day, and even greater night.”

“Cheers!” they echoed.

You all clinked glasses and you right away felt Luke’s hand on your arm.

“Can I steal you first?” he asked.

“Sure,” you agreed. 

He took your hand and you followed him to a more secluded part of the rooftop. There was a loveseat set up. You took the blanket off the back of it and draped it over your legs.

“So, you said some interesting stuff today,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were so religious.”

“Yeah, it’s the most important thing in my life,” he answered.

“Can you tell me a bit more about that?” you pressed. “Like, how did you become that way or is that just how you were raised?”

“I was raised in the faith,” he told you. “But honestly, I strayed. For a period of about six years, I was completely lost. And those were dark times for me. I was depressed and lonely. I just wanted validation from anywhere I could get it. I became wrapped up in alcohol and sex and anything that made me forget that darkness inside me.”

You were a bit moved by this story. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Because it was the journey I needed to go on to return to my faith. I came back to church and decided to start over. I was truly saved, in more ways than one.”

“I admire the strength of your conviction,” you said. “I think that’s a really unique story, and I feel like I understand you a little better.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

“But I also want you to understand that I’m not in that place,” you continued. “I’m not very religious, and I don’t believe you have to save yourself for marriage.”

His mouth turned down and he looked away from you for a moment. When he met your gaze again, you saw something like determination in them.

“That’s okay,” he said. “I think we can work through this together.”

“Well, yeah, ultimately, any couple overcomes differences together,” you replied. “I’m glad you’re open minded.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m not here to pass judgement on anyone or anything like that.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said. “Thank you for sharing.”

“Of course.”

He leaned in, opening his arms, and he embraced you. Just as you parted from the hug, Kenny approached and asked for time with you. You left with him, and Luke returned to the rest of the men.

“Well, if it isn’t Pastor Luke,” Joe joked as Luke resumed his seat on the couch. “Coming to grace us heathens with his holy body.”

A snicker went through the group but Luke just rolled his eyes.

“Make fun of it all you want, dude,” he said. “But I know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Don’t start preaching to us again,” Richard said.

“Look, this might be hard for you guys to understand, but I’m on a rescue mission for Y/N,” Luke said. “I’m supposed to save her.”

“From what, exactly?” Gwilym wondered.

“From herself,” Luke answered. “From things that might lead her astray.”

“You mean like us?” Ben pressed.

“It could be,” Luke said. “I just know that I’m right for her.”

“Look, we all think we’re right for her,” Joe chimed in. “It’s only the first week of dates, dude.”

“Don’t be so confident just because you got the First Impression Rose,” Luke argued. 

“I’m not!” Joe insisted. “That’s why I’m saying this. I’m not sure. Nobody’s sure until you get your next rose.”

“Yeah, just cool it, there,” Allen added. “Keep up that talk and you won’t have many friends.”

“Well, I didn’t come here to make friends,” Luke stated. “I came here for my wife.”

“Alright, then,” Ben concluded shortly.

The group returned to uncomfortable silence. Then Gwilym got to his feet and went to find you. He had had quite enough of that conversation and of Luke in general.

You were sitting with Kenny still, and he was showing you pictures of his daughter. She was a precious little girl, with big brown eyes and the most gorgeous natural hair. She resembled Kenny, but had softer, feminine charms. 

“She’s just adorable, Kenny,” you said. 

“If this goes right, I’d love for you to meet her,” he returned.

Your heart melted. “That would mean the world to me.”

He held your gaze a moment before leaning over and kissing you softly. It was tentative and playful, but with a real genuine affection behind it. You liked Kenny very much. You parted, beaming at each other.

At that moment, Gwilym cleared his throat behind you. You turned and beamed at him.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“May I take some of your time, Y/N?” he asked politely.

“Absolutely,” you said. 

You gave Kenny a quick hug before leading Gwilym over to a private table. You sat on a little booth on one side, and you instinctively snuggled up to him. He draped his arm over your shoulders as you rested your head on his chest.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good,” you said. “I had so much fun today.”

“I’m happy for you,” he returned.

“I have a question for you,” you said, looking up to meet his gaze. “You sort of stopped yourself today during your story. What happened there?”

He cleared his throat and looked away from you, straight ahead. As if seeing something there that you couldn’t. You sat up and looked at his face. There was suddenly such a deep sorrow about him that you grew worried.

“Gwilym?” you asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s just difficult to talk about.”

You took his hand and squeezed it. “Tell me.”

“Well, I was with one woman for about eight years,” he said. “We were actually engaged to be married.”

“You’ve been engaged before?” you asked. 

It seemed like such a stupid question, but you were just surprised.

“Yes,” he said. 

“Go on,” you urged.

“We were going to get married, but it turned out, she was keeping something from me,” he explained. “A heroin addiction. Apparently it had been going on for years without my knowledge.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth as you gasped.

“I’m so sorry, Gwilym…”

He grimaced. “It doesn’t end there.”

“It gets worse?!”

He nodded stiffly. You waited for him to speak, permitting him to take all the time he needed to say it, though your mind was spinning with questions.

“I didn’t know until…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I came home from work one day and found her on the kitchen floor, completely unresponsive. I tried to wake her and called an ambulance, but by the time they arrived, it was too late...she was gone.”

Your eyes swam with tears as you gazed at him. You were truly in awe of his strength. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Gwilym,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s...that’s awful.”

“The hardest part is having no answers,” he told you. “I don’t know why or when she actually started using. I don’t know how she was getting it or how she managed to hide it for so long. I was angry at her, and yet, I missed her. But then I felt I didn’t know her at all. It was a lot to process.”

“I’m sure,” you said gently. “I really admire you for taking another chance on love after something so traumatic. I can’t thank you enough for being here.”

“I’m happy to be here,” he said. “I want to start fresh and find my true love. And I’d like to find out if that’s you.”

“I’d like to find that out too.”

He cupped your cheek in his warm hand and tenderly pressed his lips to yours. You kissed this way for several minutes, though years could have gone by and you would not have noticed. You felt so hopeful with Gwilym. Like he was your fresh start too. You couldn’t wait to see where this journey took you with him.

The remainder of the evening went well. The guys were all open and honest with you, and you felt yourself really beginning to build some serious connections. Also, you got at least a few minutes with each of them. There was a group date rose to hand out, and you were sure of who you were going to give it to. You took a seat among them and picked the rose up off the table.

“I had such a great time with all of you today, and this evening,” you said. “But I’m going to give this rose to someone who really showed me a piece of his heart.” You turned to Gwilym. “Gwilym, thank you for being so brave. Will you accept this rose?”

“With every piece of my heart,” he replied, with a dashingly handsome grin.

You both stood, you pinned the rose to his coat, and he kissed your cheek. You faced the group.

“Thank you again for a fabulous night,” you said. “Goodnight, guys.”

You waved as they all bid you goodnight in return. When you were gone, a few of the guys high-fived Gwilym and congratulated him. He looked over and saw Luke scowling into the fire pit. Gwilym walked over and gave Luke a sarcastic pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, mate,” Gwilym smirked. “Say a few more prayers next time and maybe you’ll get the rose.”

A resounding “OOHHHH!” went through the group before they headed out to catch their cars back to the mansion.

The next day was your date with Taron. There was a lot that excited you about him. He was fun and bubbly and always managed to make you smile. There was a kindness about him - a gentleness of spirit that made you completely drawn to him. You were picking him up at the mansion, and you had a bit of drive to get to your destination. 

You rolled up in a deep red corvette and honked the horn. 

The men were mostly inside. A group was outside by the pool, catching the people who didn’t go on the date up on what happened and what Luke had said. It seemed to disturb most of the other men there as well. Then they heard the car in the driveway.

You beamed at the guys as they started slowly coming out the front door, looks of shock and a bit of jealousy coming over their faces. Then you opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. A few of them raced forward to say hello and hug you before you had to go. You shared some laughs and greetings with them.

“Where’s my date?” you wondered.

“TARON!” Joe shouted. “YOU BETTER GET OUT HERE, DUDE!”

You giggled as Taron came out of the house, hopping on one foot as he shoved the other into his shoe. His mouth dropped when he saw you and the car. He put both feet on the ground.

“Is this our date?!” he wondered.

“It gets even better,” you said. “But that’s still a surprise.”

You slid your sunglasses onto your face and strutted over to the passenger side door to open it for him. He chuckled and slid into the seat. 

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome!” you returned before walking back over to the driver’s side and sliding in next to him. You waved to the guys still standing outside watching you go. “Bye, boys!”

They all waved back as you pulled out of the driveway. You kept one hand on the wheel and the other, you offered to Taron. He took it and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

“It’s lovely to see you,” he said.

“You too,” you replied with the widest smile you’d had all week. “I’m so excited for this date.”

“Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked.

“There’s a hint in the glovebox,” you told him. “Something we’ll need while we’re there.”

He released your hand and opened the glovebox. He pulled out the hint.

“Oh, my God!” he gasped. “Mickey Mouse ears?! Are we going to DisneyLand?!”

You nodded. He let out a delighted shout and kissed you hard on the cheek. You giggled as he put his on before putting the Minnie Mouse pair on your head.

“This is the best date ever!” he cried.

“Right?!” you agreed. “Okay, what’s your favorite Disney song?”

“That’s a tough choice…” he said. “A Whole New World, maybe? Any of the love ballads. They’re just great.”

“Aw, you softie!” you teased. “Sing it for me.”

He sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat.

“I can show you the world,” he sang.

Your mouth dropped as he continued.

“Shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, princess - now when did you last let your heart decide?”

“Oh my God, Taron, you can really sing!” you cried, impressed. “Your voice is amazing!”

“Thank you,” he returned bashfully. “I love to sing, actually.”

“You’re very good at it,” you said. “What’s the song you sing the best?”

“Another tough choice,” he said. “Probably… I’m Still Standing by Elton John.”

“I love that song!” you said excitedly. “Sing that one for me!”

He launched into it and you were absolutely delighted. His voice was so sweet, you could have listened to him sing all day.

“Seriously, how have you not auditioned for American Idol or something?” you wondered.

“If I’m being honest, it’s because that lifestyle isn’t really for me,” he said. “I’ve always wanted a simple life. A modest home, a wife I adore, and children, of course. I want to be around for that, and being a singer would mean I spent most of the time away from home.”

Your heart melted at the sentiment. That was exactly the life that you wanted as well. 

“I get that,” you said. “That’s always been what I want too. To have a partner for life and raise a family together.”

You glanced over and caught his eye. You smiled at each other.

It was about an hour and half drive from the mansion to the park, so you got to talk to Taron a lot. Getting to know him was actually pretty easy. He wasn’t shy about answering your questions, which made you feel more open as well. 

Exploring DisneyLand with Taron was like returning to your childhood. He was energetic and eager, practically running from ride to ride. You had to stop him a few times. You paused in front of the castle for a few minutes to catch your breath.

“I feel like I’m seven years old again!” you laughed. 

“Good!” he returned.

He picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You giggled, throwing your arms around his neck and holding him tight. When he slowed to a stop, you held each other’s gaze.

“Now I feel like a princess,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he repeated, lowering his face to yours.

He claimed your lips in a passionate kiss that was anything but child-like. It was deep and slow, but not demanding. You pulled him closer and kissed him harder. Though you had been still for several minutes, your heart raced as if you had run a marathon. He made you feel young and giddy, but also desired. It was exactly the balance you were looking for.

“I’m having so much fun here with you,” he said, breathless as you broke apart.

“Me too,” you told him. “I can’t imagine a more perfect date. Or a more perfect man to spend it with.”

He kissed the tip of your nose sweetly, making you wrinkle it as you laughed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” you breathed back.

He kissed you lightly.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got so much more to do.”

He took your head and led you on. You were beginning to feel the happiest place on Earth was anywhere you were with Taron.

The day at the park was amazing. You had so much fun with Taron. You laughed together, took a few pictures, and you ended up kissing him a lot more after that first one. But, you also wanted to get to know him on a deeper level. To get to the real stuff. The things that made him who he is.

For the evening portion of your date, you were at a little seaside restaurant on Newport Beach. You had the place entirely to yourselves. The dinner set-up was waiting for you as you walked in. Taron pulled your chair out for you and you sat down, thanking him. He took a seat beside you. You picked up your drink.

“To a wonderful day,” you said. “And hopefully many more wonderful days ahead.”

“Cheers, love,” he said.

You touched glasses with a soft clink and each took a sip.

“So,” you began. “I had so much fun with you today. But, I want to know more.”

“What d’you want to know?” he asked.

“Can I ask you why your last relationship ended?”

He paused. Then he swallowed. His mouth turned down at the corners and you wondered if you had crossed a line.

“Course you can,” he said stiffly. “But, it’s kind of a rough story.”

“I can handle it,” you assured him. 

“My last girlfriend and I were together for about three years,” he said. “We lived together and everything. Our relationship ended because she got pregnant.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, what?”

“She got pregnant by somebody else,” he explained, a hint of bitterness to his tone.

Your mouth fell open. “Wh - oh my God…”

“Yeah…” he trailed off. “It was a guy I knew, actually. A sort of friend of mine. And when she found out she was pregnant, she confessed everything. She left me because she wanted them to be a family. But, it blew up in her face because he didn’t want anything to do with it.”

You shook your head. “That’s horrible.”

“It is, but then she came back to me, wanting to get back together,” he said.

“Are you serious?!” you gasped.

“Quite,” he said. “And I took her back. I just...I still loved her, and she seemed so sorry. And she had nowhere else to go. We tried to work on the relationship, but things weren’t the same. Then, she miscarried.”

He took a deep breath before going on.

“After that, it quickly became clear that she was using me as a financial crutch because - surprise, surprise - she cheated again,” he said. “I ended it for good and called her parents to come and get her. That was that.”

All the twists and turns of his story had you reeling. You wondered how anyone could be so cruel to someone who was so genuine and kind.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “How long ago was that?”

“About two years ago,” he told you.

“And you haven’t dated anyone since?” you wondered.

“I’ve dated, but nothing serious ever formed,” he said. “I still want to find that right person for me, y’know?”

You smiled, taking his hand. “I do.”

“And I think I’m heading in the right direction,” he said, holding your gaze.

“I think you are too,” you said.

He leaned over and kissed you gently. When you parted, you reached across the table and picked up the rose that sat on a dish.

“You were so wonderful today,” you said. “We had so much fun at the park, and then tonight was...everything I wanted from you. Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing your story with me.”

“Thank you for listening,” he replied.

You beamed at him. “So, all that being said. Taron, will you accept this rose?”

“Gladly,” he assured you with a smile.

You grinned impossibly wider as you pinned it on. 

“Come on,” you said. “There’s a surprise for us outside.”

“Another surprise?!”

You giggled and led him to the balcony. He stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. You looked out over the water. Together, you watched as a firework rocketed into the air and exploded over the inky black sky.

“Woah!” Taron gasped.

The fireworks show began, lighting up the night with the blooms. Then, he turned you to face him and he kissed you again. The way he had in the park. The fireworks were a perfect reflection of your feelings. There was something beyond a spark between you and Taron. You could picture falling in love with him. Marrying him. Sharing a life with him.

When you went to bed that night, you dreamed of fireworks and the feeling of Taron’s arms around you.

You looked forward to the cocktail party the following night. There were so many guys you wanted more time with, though you went in with some idea of who would be getting a rose. There were some men you wanted a bit more from before you could make your decision. So, you were sure the evening would be great.

When you got to the mansion, you made a toast and then Ben pulled you aside. It wasn’t just his good looks that drew you to him. Ben had a whole vibe that pulled you in and made you want to know him better. Something in his eyes told you there was a depth to him to be found. And you were determined to explore every part of that.

Luke asked for you next. Luke was sort of an enigma to you. He was a person who - outside of this - you would have probably turned him down right away. The deeply religious side was a bit of a turn off for you. But he was really nice, and seemed so eager to get to know you, too. After your conversation, you felt more positively toward him. 

After Luke, was Richard. He had a quiet way about him, but every time you talked to him, you realized it was a quiet confidence. He was focused, but not harsh. Not to mention, he had a killer smile.

You tried to speak to everyone, but time was limited. Before you knew it, Chris Harrison called everyone in for the rose ceremony. You were a bit disappointed. There were a couple guys who didn’t have a date this week, and you had not gotten time with them at the cocktail party. But it was up to them to get that time with you, and if they couldn’t make the effort, then you assumed they didn’t want it that bad.

You stood before the men as they lined up. Gwilym and Taron stood to one side, since they already had roses and were safe. You still felt great about those decisions. Now, you had a few more to make. You took a deep breath and picked up the first rose. You found the first person you wanted to call.

“Joe,” you said, and saw his shoulders sag with relief when you did. He walked up to you with his usual grin. “Joe, will you accept this rose?”

“I will,” he said quietly.

He returned to the group.

“Rami,” you called, and he approached. “Rami, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course,” he answered.

You picked up the next rose.

“Richard,” you said. He walked coolly over to you. “Richard, will you accept this rose?”

“Always,” he replied.

Then, you called the following men: Allen, Eric, Luke, Kenny, Mike, Wells, Jordan, Jared, John, Chad, and John Paul Jones. Four men remained without a rose - Ben, Colton, Lincoln, and Chris R.

Chris Harrison walked out and stood beside you.

“Y/N, gentlemen,” he said. “This is the final rose tonight.”

You picked it up, hands shaking. You hated this part. Hurting people. But there was no doubt in your mind as to who this rose should go to.

“Ben,” you said.

He let out a deep sigh. “Thank God.”

You smiled as he walked over.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you said. “Ben, will you accept this rose?”

“It was worth the wait,” he assured you. “O’course I will.”

You pinned it on him. He hugged you briefly and kissed your cheek before returning to the group.

Chris looked at the men.

“Gentlemen, I’m sorry,” he said. “If you did not receive a rose, take a moment, say your goodbyes.”

Colton, Lincoln, and Chris R all said goodbye to the men around them before they approached you one by one to say it to you. All three of them wished you the best of luck. You hated to see them go, since they were very nice to you, but you knew your connections were stronger with the others.

You couldn’t wait to see what the next week would bring. 

[papichriscnco]

Ooh can you do 19 from the trope list with Richard with 4, 46, and 50 from the fluff list, ily!

ily baby

You were Chris’ cousin and you were super excited to visit him on tour. Little did you know it meant you would be waiting outside your hotel room for him to be done with whichever girl he had just met at a club. You were sick of falling asleep in the hallway of the hotel and most nights you found yourself wandering into Joel’s room. He was the only one with a couch so you usually stayed there until Chris texted you that it was safe to enter. All of the boys offered you a place to stay when as soon as they saw Chris hitting on someone but you never wanted to bother any of them. Well all the boys except Richard offered.  Unfortunately for you, all of the boys were still out and none of the boys had realised you left the club early. If they had you were sure one of them would have given you a key to their room. As you sat leaning against the wall, you heard footsteps approaching you. Looking up you hopeful to see Joel, you found Richard menacing gaze. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asked concerned. 

You hadn’t noticed the lingering gazes he threw your way or the way he made an excuse to touch you. In your mind he hated you. He was always cutting your conversation short and finding an excuse to walk way. It was what he had to do if he wanted to push his feelings down as far as they could go. He knew you were untouchable. If he even tried to hit on you, Chris would have something to say about it. 

“Just waiting for Chris.” you mumbled yawning. 

Richard nodded as he opened his hotel door. He wanted to offer you a room for the night but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back if he did. As you turned your attention back to your phone, he moved into his hotel. It took him all of three minutes to change his mind. In that time he was pacing in his room, trying to stop himself but he couldn’t help himself. He opened the door again roughly, jolting you from your sleepy state. 

“Do you need a place to stay for tonight?” he asked. He knew the answer but he wasn’t sure what else to say. 

You looked up at him and towards your hotel door. You wanted to say no but the moans coming from the room didn’t sound like they were stopping any time soon and you were grossed out by them.

“You have a couch?” 

“Well no but we can just share the bed.” he shrugged like it was no big deal but both of you could feel the tension as the words left his lips. 

“I don’t know,” you trailed off nervously but as the moans became louder both of you looked at each other with wide eyes before you erupted in laughter. “I’m coming.” you stood up walking over to his room.

Richard took off his shirt passing it over to you with a pair of boxers, “to sleep in.” he noted.

Grateful, you took the clothing heading to the bathroom to get changed. When you walked out, you tried to start up a conversation but he was quick to shut you down. Confused you couldn’t hold back how you felt about his hatred for you and you spoke without a filter.

“I don’t get you. One minute you’re nice and offering me a bed and the next you hate me. If you don’t like me I can just go back into the hallway.”

His head bounced up, in all of the actions he made to stop himself from hitting on you, he had never expected you to think he hated you.

“Hate you? I’ve never hated you. You just,” he took a moment to think about it before his eyes met yours again, “you just make me feel things I don’t understand. Thinks I shouldn’t feel because feeling them would make Chris really pissed.”

He immediately noticed the shock on your face and he was concerned his words were too honest. Before he could shove them back in his mouth, you smiled.

“I make you feel things?” you bite your lip turning red from embarrassment. You definitely thought Richard was hot but you had never even entertained the idea of having feelings for him.

“N-no.” he stuttered standing up as he walked towards the bed.

“You’re a terrible liar.” you said playfully.

Richard laughed, “just get into bed please and don’t tell Chris. He might murder me.”

“Oh Chris will definitely murder you but only if you do something about it.” you challenged him crawling into bed.

The both of you laid together, facing one another as your cuddled up to yourselves in a plea to keep your hands off one another.

“About what?”

“About your feelings.”

“Right.” 

“But if I made the first move,” you smiled innocently, running your hands along his toned stomach, up his chest and resting them on his neck, “then maybe he wouldn’t be so mad.”

Richard smirked at your movements but he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, “fuck it.” he grumbled lunging forward to kiss you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as you pulled him closer to your body, kissing him passionately. 

[tgwltw]

mother’s day

this was supposed to be Damian centric but things just turned out like this. I haven’t been writing in a while since I was so busy with real life so this might be a tad bit boring for some nevertheless, I hope you still enjoy reading this!

p/s: i’m still not sure if i will ever find the muse to write the older requests but i’ll try to finish them!

Let it never be said that Damian Wayne does not lowkey wish for all of your attention to be on him and only on him, none with any of his ‘brothers’. (He already has to vye for your attention whenever father is around - he feels the need to assert dominance when his brothers are around). Despite having an actual mother - who is merely a mother in name and nothing but - you have somehow managed to worm your way in to his heart and settled in deep. Even if Damian has never said anything about accepting you as his ummioutright, he knows you know him well enough to decipher the things he actually means when he speaks and as much as he hates it, Damian feels flattered and grateful that you do not scorn him or even push him away.

Which is why when his brothers started coming over frequently to the manor during the week Mother’s Day is to happen, Damian finds it irksome. Not only had he caught Todd snooping around his ummi’s room, he also caught Drake trying to subtly (Damian doubts you aren’t privy to his intention - you have a way of just knowing) to ask you if there is anything you wanted. However, Damian’s biggest concern aren’t Todd or Drake - his biggest concern comes in the form of one Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson who has known you the longest and probably also knows you the best amongst all of them. It just does not sit well with Damian at all because he is the true son of Bruce Wayne therefore he should be entitled and privy to all of your love and affection. Trying to top Grayson’s present for you will be extremely hard.

“Penny for your thoughts, Young Master Damian?” Alfred asks as he pours the young master a cup of calming tea.

“Tt.My thoughts are not worth the penny.” Damian murmurs but quietly thank the older man when he places the cup of tea on the table and he furrowed his eyebrows, studying Pennyworth for a minute. “Pennyworth.”

Alfred merely looks at him, acknowledging him. “Yes, sir?”

“Other than father, you would be the next best person that knows Ummiwell, are you not?” Damian asks a tad bit haughtily. It does not sit well with him at the fact that he has to stoop this low to ask Pennyworth for help but Damian reckons that he is the lesser of the two evils - as opposed to Damian asking the rest of his brothers. “Mother’s Day is right around the corner.”

It is only due to his training that Alfred did not smile at the young master’s words immediately and he nods his head instead. He roughly knows what the young master is trying to say - after all, he had gone through the same thing with the rest of the young masters: things only happened the same way every other year. “Yes, perhaps I am.”

Damian nods his head, satisfied with his judgment and Alfred’s answer. “What would be the best gift for Ummi? One that Grayson, Todd and Drake have never given her at all.” He wonders if he can briefly consider stealing you away for some mother-son bonding but knowing the rest of his brothers, they will most likely end up crashing his time with you so Damian would rather not have that at all.

Alfred clears his throat as he begins to clear the table. “If I recall correctly, you are very well-versed in drawing, Young Master Damian. The mistress did mention briefly about how she has been wanting to update the family portrait. Perhaps that is something you can consider.” He offers and Damian stares at him for a few seconds before smirking, huffing proudly.

“Of course.”

Which is why for the next few days leaning towards Mother’s Day, you find yourself being tailed by none other than Damian Wayne. If you were any other woman, you probably would not have noticed because after all, Damian Wayne was trained as an Al Ghul first before he is a Wayne. Alas, you are you and you have had your fair shares of your sons tailing after you so you merely leave Damian be; if he had something he wanted to talk to you, you will let him come to you of his own accord. That is how things normally go when it comes to Damian.

You only found out what Damian had been up to during the scheduled dinner. To your surprise, Dick had managed to get almost everyone (with the exception of Cassie and Helena who were unfortunately off on a mission) to come for dinner to celebrate Mother’s Day, claiming that it was his present to you. “Thank you for being our Mom.” Dick informs you as he presses his lips on your temple and you smile at your son.

Jason rolls his eyes, annoyed over how he had played a part in helping Dick with his present. He hands over a bunch of wood figurines. “Made them for you; i’m not the best at it but I had time.” He mutters, almost shyly yet gruffly. You lift one of the figurines to study it and to your surprise, you see your husband staring back at you in his glorified batsuit.

“Jay, this is amazing! The details on the batsuit is down to the T.” You reach over to wrap an arm around Jason’s waist and he chuckles under his breath, trying to shrug off your compliment. “I love it, Jay. Thank you so much; you made everyone too, didn’t you?” You place the figurines back on the table and inspected the rest: true to your assumption, Jason had managed to perfectly carve everyone in the family, including Damian’s pets. Your cheeks are starting to hurt from the amount of smiling you are doing.

Tim slid a box over to you. “I cheated because I asked you what you wanted for Mother’s Day, Mom.” He tells you sheepishly and you shake your head at him, giggling at his words.

“I don’t mind, Timmy; you bought this for me. I will cherish it and wear it.” You open the box to see the necklace you had told him you had been eyeing for a while. Tim smiles at you, rubbing the back of his neck and you lean forward to give him a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, Tim.”

Tim grins at you and even helps you put on the necklace. “It really does look lovely on you, Mom.” He compliments and you smile at him.

“Tt.” Damian huffs before he stands up and makes a move to approach you. He hands over the tablet to you. “Your actual present is currently being put up as we speak but this is essentially what I am giving you.”

Your jaw drops as you stare at the tablet; a digital family portrait. “Darling, this is impressive!” You always thought you knew art but looking at Damian’s amazing drawing made you realize that you barely even knew art. The details on the drawing were on point and suddenly, it dawned on you that this was probably the reason why he had been tailing you the other day. “You said it is being put up?”

Damian smirks, proud that you seemed to enjoy his present a lot (definitely better than any of his brothers’ presents that is for sure). “Yes. I made a coloured version and have had it printed and framed. Pennyworth briefly mentioned that you have been wanting to get our family portrait updated and I have done it for you.” He states as a matter-of-factly and you place the tablet on the table before pulling your youngest son in your embrace, causing Damian to stiffen slightly - embarrassed because he cannot believe you are doing this to him right in front of his brothers - but when you did not make any move to release him, Damian relaxes in to your embrace. “Ummi, this is rather embarrassing.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you press a kiss atop his head. Looking around, you catch Bruce’s eyes and the amount of you love you see in his eyes made you feel warm and almost touched. “Thank you so much, boys. I love each and every present; I love you. Thank you for letting me be your mom - I know I can never replace your real mothers but thank you for making me so happy and being my sons.”

“Tt.” Damian pulls his head back to stare at you pointedly. “As far as anyone of us is concerned, you are our mother and nothing will ever change that, Ummi.”

[wordsfromthesol]

Out of Place (3/6)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: Meeting Dick, and the rest of the batboys.  You’re confused, since you are nowhere near Bludhaven or Gotham. Some tragedies, some battles, etc. Happy ending because I’m a sap. Warnings: Language, blood and torture and other injuries, light smut Word Count: 1.5k A/N: I’m almost finished with the story and hope to post the rest soon.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6

You watched vigilantly, while making mindless conversation with some patriarchal asshole. He did most of the talking, so it was easy for you to keep an eye on the boys, even if you weren’t entirely sure what this plan of theirs was. Suddenly, you see a fire fight break out. Fuck. Everyone on the beach was scattering, you lost your cover for being there. You ran over to a nearby tree and climbed. Hoping to stay out of sight, while making sure these two didn’t die. You see John pined to the ground with a sword at his throat. Well I guess that’s where all the cuts came from. Jason was nowhere to be seen. Come on John, get up. You seen the pain grimaced on his face. You knew it was too soon for him to be back in the field. Fuck. I’m so going to regret this. You jumped from your hiding place and rolled onto the ground. The assailant glanced up, unsure of what kind of foe you were. You whipped the gun from your waistband and shot directly at the swordsman’s shoulder. Wincing the figure was thrown backwards just enough that Nightwing was freed. He ran over to you.

“Y/N! What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“That you were going to be killed. It was whelming.” Your lips turned upward into a smirk. “I’m going to go back into hiding now, stay safe!” Without a thought you pecked him on the cheek and ran into the darkness. Climbing a nearby tree, you sat watching the fight unfold once more.

Jason ran over, “Fuck dude, I thought you were a goner. Where the fuck did Y/N come from?”

“I don’t even know. I just hope she’s safe.”

The two turned back to back as six men surrounded them. Thankfully, the two leaguers had taken off. This was not the job they were paid to do. Little did you know; their job was more centered around you than the two vigilantes.

Pulling up to your apartment, you helped John up the stairs. Several of his wounds had reopened. Thankfully, no more life-threatening ones were given. You fixed up both Jason and John and slumped onto the couch.

“Oh Jay,” not even thinking about the nickname you had just given him, “if you want a change of clothes, I bought a few things for John. Ya’ll are about the same size.”

The boys excuse was to go get clean clothes. Though you knew they were probably talking about the mission.

“Jay?” Dick questioned.

“I don’t know, maybe she heard you say it”

“Hmm..mm. Well, the leaguers got away. What do you think they were after?”

“Clearly, not the drugs. Or the gang dealing them.”

“Fuck. This isn’t over is it, Red?”

“’Fraid not Dickiebird”

Jason hopped in the shower, and John plopped on the couch next to you.

“Looks like this thing isn’t over”

“Yeah, I gathered that we the sword freak got away”

“You…you mind if we stay?”

“What kind of nurse would I be if I said no, Dickiebird?”

After the initial shock had passed, “Were you ease dropping, Y/N/N?”

“Blame my upbringing,” nonchalantly waving your hand. “Plus, it is my apartment.”

After a few moments in silence, you turned towards him, “Alright, so 1. That’s a weird ass nickname, John. 2. What the fuck are these guys after, if not drugs? 3. Who the fuck is the league?”

*Sigh* “I guess I should read you in…My name is actually Richard, but I go by Dick…hence how Jay came up with the colorful nickname. We have absolutely no clue, we thought it was just the drugs, and now Razorburn saw your face.” Dick put his head in his hands. “The League of Assassins is the full name, and the name is pretty self-explanatory. Razorburn is one of Ra’s al Ghul’s personal hitman. If he’s here, that can only mean more trouble will follow. Me and Jay may need more backup.”

“Ra’s al Ghul is…”

“The leader, the Demon.”

“Great…look, Dick, are you sure this is your job? I get you’re a superhero or whatever, but isn’t there someone else that can do this?”

“Y/N/N, I do this because I’m the someone else that can. I’ve trained since I was nine years old. Even earlier for some types of training. I can’t risk the lives of the police, they would have no idea what they are getting into.”

Jason steps out of the bathroom and sees Dick’s hand and yours intertwined. “You love birds need some more room? Plenty of things I can do in the bathroom…”

“Don’t you dare…” you growl at him, quickly pulling your hand away from Dick’s. “Right, well. You guys call whoever you need, not sure how many more can fit in my apartment…but whatever. I need a drink.” You see Dick glance over at the bottles of wine on the counter. “I need a strong drink.” Quickly you grab your keys and walk out the door.

“Jay, follow her…will ya? I am in desperate need of a shower.”

Though the words didn’t even need to be said, Jason was already headed towards the door.

Soon, weeks had gone by. You had gone back to your normal life. The boys had left. Though, both kept up with you. Guess you made an impression. Surprisingly Dick had come to visit you nearly every weekend. Jay even tagged along every once in a while.

Now almost a year had passed.

Dick stumbled out from your bedroom to find you, unshockingly, at the coffee machine. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Dick…you okay?” Yeah, you slept in the same bed, but it’s not like anything ever happened. You two were best friends, yeah you tossed the idea around, but no. It was Grayson, your best friend, and this…this was very out of character.

“Yeah, just…just needed a hug I guess.”

“Have a bad patrol?”

He looked up at the ceiling, “Yeah, I didn’t make it in time.” He remembered the young girl. She looked just like you. That’s what really got him, though he wouldn’t admit that out loud.

He had gotten in late last night, so you figured he hopped on Bruce’s plane as soon as his patrol was over. You don’t even think he showered, just pulled off his costume and put on the sweatpants he left there. What you didn’t know, is he really didn’t sleep at all. Just crawled into bed and pulled you in close. He was thankful you were sleeping heavily that night, because all he needed was your touch. He pulled away as soon as you started to stir and drifted to sleep for a few short moments.

“Dick” you cupped your hands around his face, “you can’t save everyone. You have to be grateful for the people that get another chance at life. Thanks to you.” You walked towards the bedroom and called out “I’m thinking it’s a pool day. Grab some coffee and meet me down there?” He nodded as you walked into your room and put your suit on. A few minutes later Dick joined you at the pool downstairs. It was still too early for anyone else to be out.

Razorburn, however, was hardly a person. He laid in the valley of the pool house roof. Head barely peaking over the ridge. He had been watching for weeks, waiting for Ra’s al Ghul signal to strike. Finally, he saw Cheshire leaping from the rooftops. It was time. Dick should’ve spotted the two, but his mind was still clouded from the events that transpired the night before. The events that Ra’s al Ghul had set up. He needed Grayson’s mind clouded. He needed you out of the apartment and focused on Grayson.

Cheshire bounded, and landed on your apartment’s patio. She waltzed into the apartment, however, she was not expecting the Red Hood to be on your couch.

*Back at the pool*

“Oh, Jay’s here”

“Really? Look, I’ve got both my boys this weekend” you smiled up at him from the water.

“Yeah, he’s pissed at dad…big shocker there.”

“You know there is always room for you two here. I’ll go up and say hi. I could use a mimosa anyways…” you winked his way and got out of the pool.

“Oh…Irish coffee!” He called after you as he sat on the pool chair.

You walked up the stairs and heard a crash coming from your apartment. Shit. You ran to the other side of the building and screamed, “DICK!”

You saw him racing towards your apartment, but you had to see if Jay was okay. You opened the door to find your things massacred. Jay and a woman in a cat mask were grappling on the floor. You rushed to your room, to grab your gun.

“Y/N, don’t!” Jason called after you.

It was too late, you stood face to face with Razorburn. You had been in martial arts training since meeting the boys. But a year of practice hardly compared to the skills of the assassin.

Dick raced into the apartment and headed immediately towards his brother, pinned down on the floor. Cheshire jumped back, freeing Jason.

“Get Y/N! I’ve got this!”

Dick looked around frantic and ran to the bedroom. Just in time to see Razorburn exit through the window with you on his shoulder.

“They’ve got her Jay! Don’t let Cheshire leave, I’m following…” the rest of Dick’s sentence was cut short as he leaped from the window.

“Well…where are you taking her?”

Cheshire smirked as the two cautiously went in circles. “Oh little birdie, you really don’t know your Y/N very well do you?”

“What do you mean? She is not involved in any of this.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but some very powerful men want something she has. Or at least, something she can get,” she waved her hands around, “that’s not my information to give.” She winked and ran to the balcony door.

“Fuck.” Jay didn’t even have the energy for a chase. Dick was already after Razorburn. Jason pulled out his phone.

“Tim, I need your help. Me and Dick both. You need to get to Y/Address, now.” He didn’t even wait for a response.

Soon after Dick stumbled into the apartment. “I fucking lost her. How…how did I lose her?”

“Tim’s on his way.”

[fanficshiddles]

His ray of sunshine, Chapter 19

David took Tom and Michael to the other side of London, where Charlie was staying at the moment in a safe house.

‘I have to keep moving him around London because before long someone recognises him. It’s not easy either with the packs all getting closer in this bloody city.’ David sighed on the way there in the car.

‘I can imagine. We’re lucky with where we live.’ Tom said as he looked out the window and watched the large buildings moving by. He enjoyed visiting the city, but would never live there. He enjoyed the peace of the countryside too much, the easier way of living. It was much safer, too.

Then he remembered something. ‘I don’t suppose you’d be able to do a check for me, David?’

‘Sure, what’s the name?’ David asked, pulling out his phone.

‘I don’t know their last names, but we had an unwelcome visitor a few weeks back. Three Alphas, said they were just passing through. Same pack. Their names are Richard, Cory and Josiah.’

David typed their names into his phone and within seconds was able to pull up information about them, their pack too. He frowned. ‘Hmm. They’ve been evading their pack tax. But apart from that, nothing stands out. Do you think they’re trouble?’ David looked up at Tom.

‘I didn’t like the vibe they were giving off. They were highly interested in Keira.’ Tom said with a growl.

‘I can certainly send my guys to pay them a visit if you’d like? They are due money anyway. I can get them to have a word, to make sure they won’t step foot in your territory again.’ He offered.

Tom nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Least I can do.’ David grinned and then got on the phone to some of his guys, ordering them to go pay Richard and his pack a visit to collect money that was due and rough them up a bit.

Tom knew that would be the end of the issue. It always was when David or his men stepped in. It was handy having such a high-up powerful friend.

They pulled down a quiet street, the houses were beautiful. At least David was putting Charlie up somewhere nice. David took them into the house and he called out for Charlie.

Tom raised an eyebrow in slight confusion when an Alpha, just a bit shorter than he was, came down the corridor with glasses on and a walking stick on front of him.

‘You don’t need to use that with these guys, Charlie.’ David assured him.

Charlie stopped dead. ‘You told them?’

‘I did. You can trust Tom and Michael, the rumours about them are true.’ David said.

Charlie walked right up to Tom after putting his stick to the side. He put his hand out towards him. ‘It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard about your pack, and the rumours too. I always hoped they were true.’

Tom shook his hand and could feel the strength in his hand-shake. Which was a good sign. ‘Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about your story, too. I must say, it’s impressive. Though I am sorry about what your pack did to you.’

Charlie half-smiled. ‘Thank you. But I am not worried, it’s actually a blessing, in a way. It’s made me who I am now, stronger than ever. You’d be amazed at what your senses can do when you’re one short.’

‘David tells us that you can fight really well.’ Michael said as he put his hand out towards him. Impressed when Charlie shook his hand with ease. It was almost unbelievable for them. They wanted to ask if he truly was blind, but didn’t want to seem rude.

‘I can indeed. Michael, right?’ He asked.

‘That’s me.’ Michael confirmed.

‘I really am so grateful to meet you both. It’s nice to know there are others out there that don’t see me as a criminal for what I’ve done. That there are people out there that accept people who are gay as well.’

‘The law is not fair. I know there are changes being made, but it’s far too slow for my liking. We’re only now realising that omegas are not to be treated like objects. I fear it will be a long time before the law is on your side.’ Tom said sadly.

‘My thoughts exactly.’ Charlie sighed.

‘Well, I am going to leave you men to it. I’ll have another car come out to collect you. If any of you need anything at all, you know where to find me.’ David said. ‘It was good to see you both, perhaps next time we meet it won’t be all business.’

‘I sure hope so. You need to come and stay at ours for a while, you know you’re welcome anytime.’ Tom said as he gave David a half hug.

‘I shall be sure to visit soon. I need to meet your omega, too.’ David grinned and then hugged Michael too.

‘Say hi to Marlene for us.’ Tom called to David as he went to the door.

‘I will.’ David said and waved to them, then shut the door as he left.

‘You seem like you’ve known David for a long time?’ Charlie asked as he motioned for Tom and Michael to join him through in the living room as he took off his glasses.

‘Since we were kids. We went to the same school.’ Said Michael.

‘I didn’t trust him at first, but then I realised he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to help me. It was such a relief, just having someone to trust and rely on… Sorry, where are my manners. Can I get you both a drink? Tea, coffee, or something stronger?’ He stood up again.

‘Something stronger would be good.’ Tom said.

Charlie took a guess and got them both whiskey. Which was a good guess. Tom still couldn’t get over that this man was blind. Considering he’d only been in this house, according to David, for a week. He was walking around like he had lived here since he was a kid.

‘If I may ask, where did you get the operation done?’ Michael asked.

‘I don’t mind, I have nothing to hide from yourselves. I knew of a surgeon who worked in the black market, just outside of London. When I went to him and explained what I wanted, he was surprisingly happy to help me. Even though he knew the risks if he got caught. But he did a brilliant job, including all the pheromones and hormones. I’m a working Alpha, just like you.’ Charlie said proudly.

Tom liked that about him, he didn’t regret his decision. He was proud of it, and rightly so.

‘I must say, when I first heard about you, I was shocked. Thinking it was a ridiculous thing to do. But the more I thought about it, the more I understood. I can’t imagine being born as the wrong gender. I don’t doubt there are many more out there, just too scared to say or do anything about it. Which is wrong, we should be able to love who we want to love and be who we want to be.’ Said Tom.

‘I just wish that everyone had the same mind-frame.’ Charlie sighed.

The three Alphas spent a while talking. Tom had a really good vibe from Charlie, and so did Michael. Tom knew that David didn’t take him to meet Charlie just for a chat, he knew he was hoping that they would offer Charlie to join the pack.

And Tom was definitely going to offer, and hoped he would accept. Tom could tell from the shirt Charlie wore that he certainly did look strong. If he could truly sense when someone was lying too, that could be very useful.

‘Well, we best be getting back to our omegas. I’m not fond leaving them for long while we are in this city.’ Tom said and stood up, so did the other two.

‘It’s been amazing to meet you both. You’ve given me some hope that there are possibly others out there like you. That I might one day be able to join a pack again.’ Charlie smiled honestly.

Tom looked at Michael with a grin, then back at Charlie.

‘Well, I hope not... Because I want you to come home with us, come join my pack.’ Tom offered.

Charlie’s face turned into utter shock. He didn’t expect Tom to offer that, not in a million years.

‘Are… Are you serious?’ Charlie gasped.

‘Very. I think you would fit in well with us. We have a beautiful home in the countryside, by a lake. We live in cabins all close by. Of course, you would be expected to chip in with daily duties. But we would love to have you.’

Charlie’s mouth opened and closed again. He really didn’t know what to say. He sat down, because he was so overwhelmed. His eyes started watering, too.

‘I… I would be honoured, truly. I never thought I would ever find a pack again.’ He raised his head and Tom felt his heart sink for him, he looked so relieved and happy.

Tom went over and sat next to him, patting his back gently. ‘Well, you have a pack now. We may be a bit of a misfit bunch, but that’s what makes us so strong and close.’

For the first time, Charlie felt like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.

‘Come on, why don’t you pack your bags and come with us back to the hotel. You can meet some of the pack. They’re waiting for us in the private bar that David set up for us. I have a feeling he knew this would happen all along.’ Tom chuckled.

‘Thank you. So much.’ Charlie grabbed Tom’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. Then he went off to pack his things.

Tom looked at Michael and they both shook their heads, not quite believing this was happening.

‘Well, we came looking for two omegas and instead found an Alpha.’ Michael chuckled.

‘True. We still have two nights to find omegas, too. Hopefully we will.’

Once Charlie was ready to go, they got in the car that David had sent them. It took them back to their hotel. Luckily it was a higher class of area, so the chances of people recognising Charlie was slim. He had changed his appearance over time, too. Having a beard now than when the news first caught on to him. And he explained to Tom and Michael that he used the walking stick to blend in even more.

‘You’d be surprised how many people don’t even notice a blind person walking down the street. Lucky for me, the news didn’t know I was blind. So that wasn’t reported and works in my favour.’ Charlie said.

‘It’s a good way to hide in plain sight, that’s for sure.’ Tom grinned.

When they arrived at the hotel, Tom and Michael went into the bar area first, with Charlie just behind.

‘How did it go?’ Luke asked, knowing they had gone to meet David. Though he was surprised to see another Alpha behind them.

The omegas were confused, but weren’t scared at the Alpha because Tom and Michael were calm. There were no bad smells being emitted into the air, either.

‘Well, everyone. I’d like to introduce the new member of our pack. This is Charlie.’ Tom grinned and stepped to the side, letting Charlie come into view.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “The Cuddling Room”

“The Cuddling Room” is a unique idea Y/N came up with when her relationship with The Joker started to fall apart. The awesome plan worked for a while…until it didn’t. Maybe the sanctuary’s purpose wasn’t to mend the present, but to heal old wounds that will never fade unless given a chance.

 The Joker walks the hallway leading to the kitchen, dreading the imminent reality: after another horrible fight last night, Y/N is probably gone. Terrible things were said in the hit of the moment and The King of Gotham abandoned the Penthouse, leaving a heartbroken girlfriend behind.

No texts and no phone calls; you are always the first one to reach out and J sort of got used to it. Since you didn’t bother to contact him at all, he assumed you had enough and left.  

Nobody lasts in a relationship with The Joker anyway.

Why?

Because he “doesn’t do” relationships: The Clown Prince of Crime is truly clueless on how to handle them, especially when he actually likes someone. It’s a paradox he can’t escape: the more J tries to hold on, the more his urge to mess up exponentially increases.

He passes by the studio and can’t help but notice the flashy hand written sign hanging on the door: “The Cuddling Room.”

Lots of thumping sounds and the door is cracked opened: The Joker peeks inside only to see Y/N running around in order to finish the project she worked on for hours in his absence.

The small room is entirely remodeled: there are decorative lights dangling from the ceiling, candles and books scattered on the shelves, flowerpots plus a twin-size bed moved from storage courtesy of Frost and Shark.

“What are you doing?!” J crabbily mumbles, not that he would admit how relieved he feels you’re still on the premises.

“I’m not talking to you,” you pout and fluff the pillows.

“You just did,” he brings it to your attention, very intrigued while analyzing the surroundings. “What’s this supposed to be?!”

“Sanctuary,” the clarification briefs the puzzled Joker. “If we have an argument and things go downhill…” you take a deep, strenuous breath, “…and want to work it out, we can use this place. We can be mad and resentful, yet here we can be together without being together.”

“Huh?” J has a difficult time processing the peace offer because nobody else went through so much trouble for him before.

He’s just not worth it.

“The mattress is tiny; two people have to cuddle if they want to fit…That’s why it’s called the cuddling room,” you grouchily finish your speech.  

You hear him huff and slam the door, meaning he’s dismissing your idea.

We’ll see how it goes, you sigh and grab a book, deciding to dwell into the newly transformed oasis.

About half an hour later, The Joker sneaks in and you completely ignore him. He took a shower, changed into a pair of sweatpants and decided to pop in for additional criticism that will promptly be addressed towards Y/N and her silly experiment.

The blinds are closed; the string lights and candles glowing in the darkness make the room very cozy: The Queen of Gotham reigns her minuscule kingdom quite relaxed after she lost hope The King will join.

He slowly drags his feet on the rug, adamant in not giving into the tempting thought of compromising for once; nevertheless he winds up in bed by a sulking girlfriend.

“Scoot,” J hisses and the reply clarifies your denial:

“I’m at the edge on my side.”

He groans, squirming to get comfortable and you snatch the cell phone out of his hand, hiding it under the cushions.

“No electronics!”

He puckers his lips, irritated.

“Excuse me?!”

“Read a book!” you cut him off.

The Joker is outraged at your behavior; he mutters several complaints that you disregard. You’re getting ready to turn the page and he protests:

“I’m not done!”

Apparently J is reading your book now.

“That’s crazy!” he scoffs at the story and elbows you.

You lastly turn the page and he continues to scan the novel until there are no more words: he passed out nuzzling to your shoulder; the lack of space gave him no other option, which is literally the point of Y/N’s attempt to save their affair.

You cover him with the blanket, annoyed he’s purring in his sleep; The Joker often does it when he’s totally carefree and you’re definitely jealous at his detachment from stuff that keeps you up at night.

He senses wiggling and wraps his left arm around your waist, a natural reaction to what he would usually do. Even if you’re aware he’s unconsciously responding to the closeness, you can’t resist the impulse: you slide on the pillows, touching his nose with yours.

“Mmm…” he moans, opening one eye. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” you yawn and hesitantly kiss him, immediately smiling when he kisses you back.

“Then stop fidgeting and let me rest,” The Joker scolds without any trace of bitterness in his voice.

“I’m almost falling off the mattress,” you lie and don’t wait for an invitation to snuggle to his chest.

“Then got to the master bedroom,” the fussy Clown reprimands while holding you tighter.

“Maybe later…” you sniffle and stroke his hair, grateful your skills aiming at reconciliation are paying off.

*************

Your awesome plan worked for a while…then it didn’t.

Later in the year, succeeding another dreadful confrontation, J was a no show in The Cuddling Room for eight days in a row; he barely spoke to you and was gone most of the time. I guess that was his method of telling his woman it was over; she expected a bit more after 23 months of being part of The Joker’s life and his indifference hurt more than it should have.

One morning he came home and the view of suitcases piled up by the elevator made him frown.

“Y/N?...” he shouted and there was no reply.

J searched the Penthouse and found a teary Y/N boxing items she purchased to adorn the special haven that meant so much to her; might as well take them away since The Clown Prince of Crime had no need for such trivialities.

He watched you in silence, bothered to see the consequences of his actions: after struggling on a decision, The Joker was at last coming to use The Cuddling Room. Instead of disclosing his intentions, the opposite came out of his mouth:

“You finally got the hint?”

You grabbed the crate in a hurry and rushed outside the studio, not looking at him. He had no clue how deep of a wound he inflicted that day; The Joker should have put his wretched temper on hold and confess why he was there for.

But he couldn’t… To him, it was easier to end it.

So he let you go.

**************

It wasn’t easy to endure J’s presence at certain meetings you had to attend due to your involvement with the same entourage as his. God knows you had issues to get out of your chest, yet pretending to be fine suited you better. You mostly kept your distance, avoiding dialogue at all cost.

In a way, one could say he respected that: your ex didn’t attempt to chitchat either, especially when he realized you seemed happy when Tony Bianchi, everyone’s favorite smuggler developed an interest in you.

For several months you two would show up everywhere and soon after the engagement ring on your finger got rumors circulating, The Joker and the rest of the world noticed the baby bump too. Although it wasn’t a secret you were dating Tony and accepted his marriage proposal, you maintained your private life off radar.

The reason was plain and simple: besides your tumultuous relationship with J, the new found love appeared to be a walk in the park; you didn’t have to resort to extreme lengths in order to keep things afloat. You and your fiancée worked together in fixing problems that would seldom arise because that’s what couples do: if they want to thrive, they will find the middle ground. Y/N didn’t feel she was alone against the odds; having a suitable partner was her special paradise and she fully enjoyed the opportunity of being cherished like she deserved.

How life works it’s a real mystery: some facts can’t be explained, others happen for a reason and just a handful are the universe’s manner of rebalancing events that should have occurred differently due to stupid human errors, even if changing the final result meant to destroy and rebuild from scratch.

To this day, The Joker perfectly remembers his heart stopped at 6:37am on September 23rd ; he was cruising in the back of his favorite SUV, still sleepy and discontent for the emergency meeting requested by a few business partners at such an early hour. J didn’t know the reason why but agreed to go; Frost was on the phone trying to find out more details and Panda was driving as smooth as possible, not wishing to aggravate his boss more than necessary.

The King of Gotham was kind of dozing off when Jonny finished his phone conversation and got his attention:

“Sir…”

“Mmm?...” he lifted his nonexistent eyebrows and made an effort to gather his thoughts.

“Tony Bianchi was murdered last night, the victim of a home invasion, possibly a score settling with the deceased. The allies want to meet and assess the damage since everyone constantly invests huge amounts of money with the smuggler. Now that he’s history, they’re not sure who’ll replace him.”

The Joker’s heart stopped.

“And Y/N?” he flatly asked, allegedly composed for the shocking blow; after all, inquiring about his former girlfriend might have been perceived as weakness and he had none.

“I guess she wasn’t home.”

The Clown hummed incomprehensible sentences, calculating how much venue he might have lost in the messy situation. He didn’t allow himself to admit to the obvious truth: once he heard Y/N wasn’t dead, his heart started beating again.

***************

Three months following Tony’s death, J had the chance of an encounter with you and to classify it as awkward wouldn’t do that evening any justice.

Richard aka Panda was finishing his cigarette behind “Neon Devil” club, when the bouncers engaged into an escalating confrontation got his attention; he was preparing to take over Nixon’s shift as main security for the back entrance and had to check in anyway.

“The club is closed; are you deaf?” one of the guys pushed the lady on the sidewalk and she almost fell.

“Is Tony here?” the seven month pregnant Y/N insisted, getting ready to stroll into the place.

“Let me repeat myself!” another guard shouted. “We have no Tony working here, capisci?! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you on drugs?!”

“I have to see if he’s in there,” you passed your fingers through your hair, visibly distressed.

“Are you kidding me?!” Mike grumbled, fed up with the crazy babbling. “You have five seconds to scram, understand?! Five, four …”

“What’s going on?” Richard approached and recognized you instantly.

“She keeps on asking about a Tony; we told her we have nobody with that name employed here but this wacko doesn’t get it!” Nixon reported.

“I know her so back the fuck out!” Panda threatened the newbies that had no idea who you were. He took your arm and guided you inside, making you sit in the lobby while he called his boss.

“Mister Joker, Y/N’s here,” Richard announced before taking you to the VIP room.

“Huh?”

“Ummm… she’s here looking for…e-hem…Tony. Can I bring her up or should I take her home?”

Long moments of silence and J made his decision:

“Bring her up.”

You were accompanied upstairs and Panda helped you settle on the couch opposite The Clown’s while he quietly analyzed you: he could tell that something was off.  Your cheeks were flushed and you nervously played with your t-shirt, the dark circles under your eyes bearing witness to the numerous sleepless nights tolerated in the past weeks.

The rumor was you suffered a nervous breakdown and had this recurring “episodes” consisting of wandering off to familiar places in search of your departed fiancée. The pregnancy made it impossible for you to use any medications that could have aided with your frail mental state; counselling and therapy could only accomplished that much and The Joker could entirely observe the transformation in the woman he once dated.  

“Is…is Tony here?” you whispered, investigating the room.

“Nope. Didn’t see him in a while.”

“I don’t know where he is...” the tears rolled down your face. “I can’t find him…”

“Jesus…” The King of Gotham mumbled under his breath. “How’d you get here?” he crossed his legs and caught you ogling the food: J craved Thai and immediately changed his mind as soon as the courier arrived.

“I…I took a cab and then… then… walked,” you seemed confused and he slid the foam container on the coffee table, making it easy for the future mother.

“Are you hungry?”

Y/N nodded a yes and The Joker examined her scarfing down the freshly cooked dish, still warm since the restaurant wasn’t far from the club. You kept sobbing and chewing, wiping your tears from time to time.

“Here’s some water,” he opened a small bottle and offered it to his grieving ex: she was definitely famished.

J sighed and reached for his cell phone, dialing Soraya’s number: she was appointed to take over for Tony because you were in no shape to do so.

“Are you missing a valuable member of your crew?” he barked when she answered.

“Oh my God Mister J, please tell me Y/N’s with you!”

“She is.”

“Thank heavens! We’ve been seeking for her: she had an ultrasound this morning and vanished from the doctor’s office afterwards,” the agitated 50 years old brings to The King’s knowledge. “I’ll send a car to pick her up.”

“No need to,” he interrupted her tirade. “I got it.”

J hung up and patiently waited for you to finish eating: since you were wearing your maternity jeans plus a basic t-shirt, he clearly noticed the baby moving under the thin fabric. It was slightly fascinating and weirdly enough not a dull spectacle.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home,” he uttered and you stood up, eager to comply:

“Is Tony there?”

The Joker said nothing; he escorted you to one of the vehicles stationed in the underground parking lot and dodged your questions regarding the assassinated smuggler.

He kept navigating the streets until he realized why you quit talking: Y/N loved car rides and completely crashed after scarcely napping in the last months.

The green haired man has always been a reckless driver, yet he didn’t speed nor take sharp turns with you in the passenger’s seat.

The traffic was harrowing and he just calmly went with the flow instead of having a tantrum; such a rare occurrence that he managed to stay cool. J was practically at your house when he switched the plan: he turned the signal on and took a right, skeptical about his own judgement.

************

You slowly blink, adjusting your eyes to the decorative lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Where am I?...” you toss in the small bed, disoriented and groggy after snoozing for 10 hours straight.

The electronic clock on the wall near the windows show 5 am; which windows though?... They don’t resemble the ones at your house, but somehow summon past memories: a few candles, scattered books on the shelves, flowerpots… and the handwritten sign you scribbled almost three years ago pinned on the wide opened door: “The Cuddling Room.”

You touch your tummy and get on your elbow; the little unborn girl keeps kicking and you moan in pain at the splitting headache menacing to burst full throttle in the next minutes.

“It’s fine sweet pea,” you caress your bump and contemplate the peaceful environment, frowning when you discover The Joker gazing at you from the recliner.

“Hi,” he sucks on his teeth for the lack of a better tactic.

“Why am I here?!” you grow exponentially alarmed at the baffling reality: shit, it’s The Penthouse.  Not that you recall how you got here; last evening is an absolute blur.

The Joker lifts his shoulders up, not possessing a logic rationalization himself.

“I don’t like this place,” you struggle to stand up, more and more upset at the idea you were brought up to a spot you hate without your consent.

“I do,” J serenely admits. “It’s calming.”

“Why is this stuff still here?!” your bottom lip quivers at the sight of everything you left behind when you vacated the premises in a hurry.

“I didn’t have time to clean.”

“Really?!” you start crying and accomplish to roll off the bed.

“I’m a busy individual,” he watches you stumble on the carpet and rushed to help. You reject his assistance, bothered he dares taking such liberties: 

“Please don’t touch me!!”

J halts his movement, receptive to your demand; he’s aware of your precarious relation and it makes him grasp the basic notion: bringing you to The Penthouse was a huge mistake.

“I have to go home,” you sniffle and stomp around him. “I need to find Tony.”

“You won’t find him…” The Joker bites his lip.

Y/N ends up in front of her former boyfriend and the hurt look on her face accentuates the sorrowful plea:

“Why would you say something like that?...”

“You know why… He’s gone,” J growls and surprisingly regrets his words when you collapse on your knees, bawling your eyes out at the cruel statement. Unfortunately it’s true also.

On the good days you remember and the person to remind you shouldn’t be the man that shattered your heart to pieces with his indifference; he shouldn’t have the privilege of harming you again.

Yet The Joker doesn’t appear to be overjoyed at his accomplishment; he frankly wasn’t aiming for a meltdown.

He lowers his body next to yours, attempting to hug you; you keep on pushing him away until he finally mutters:

“I didn’t mean it… alright? I didn’t mean it,” he forcefully holds you as you squirm to escape the unwelcomed intimacy. “I’m trying to apologize, ok?!” he raises his voice and reaffirms: “I didn’t mean to say it!”

You dig your nails in his shirt, not used to hear such compromising sentences from his part.

How you longed for him to give you a small token of his affection when you were together; why doing it now when it’s pointless?

J takes advance of Y/N lowered resistance and squeezes her closer, pleased that she gradually lets him embrace her without fighting his grip. It’s strange for this to happen in the tiny sanctuary that meant hope for them many years ago.

Maybe because The Cuddling Room’s purpose is not to mend the past, but to heal old wounds that will never fade unless given a chance.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

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