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devilfic · 5 months ago

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❝right place, right time❞

X. we don't fight fair.

parts: previously / next plot: you and bruce talk some more about your arrangement. everyone wants to know what's going on with you two. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, angst is back baby, but so are the romcom plot beats, somebody get gordon a drink and get one for me too. words: 7.6k. a/n: LOTS of plot this chapter, but also some maybe cute things coming later. in between the horrors :D

It takes more coaxing than you would like for Bruce to let you leave alone two days later. Even with proof of a patient, he insists he send you in his car, with his driver and his guards. One of the cops on your detail had confessed they were feeling redundant, leisurely as they were anyway, parked outside General with coffees barely keeping hot in the November chill, “Just the one today, right doc?”

You snuggle deeper into your coat, hands eagerly grasping at the warmers in your pockets, “Just the one. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be out before lunch.”

“Well, we’ll be here. Holding down the fort.” The two of them snicker to themselves. Glancing to the side, you see Bruce’s men: one in the driver’s seat of his car and the other waiting by the entrance for you. Unlike your detail, they dared not crack a smile for fear of looking too cheerful. You wouldn’t admit it out loud (because these cops were being paid to keep you alive), but you felt like your life was in much better hands with people who weren’t currently goofing around on the hood of their car.

“Right. Thanks, fellas.” You can’t be bothered to sound sincere, and from their general lack of acknowledgement, they don’t seem to care.

You spin on your heels, preparing to follow Bruce’s guard into the hospital, but nearly crash into a woman walking behind you. The collision has you stumbling and jumping back, Bruce’s guard jumping forward, and the woman baring her teeth at you in a… smile?

Her teeth glint bleach-white off the gathering snow, a few shades lighter than the hair smoothly pinned at her crown. Unlike everyone else shuffling past on the icy sidewalk, she is perfectly content with standing right in front of you under the porte-cochère. You supposed the black, mink coat wrapped around her person kept her all warm and toasty. You felt jealous. Then you felt like you should apologize for ramming into her, but nothing came out.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” The extravagant woman speaks first, glancing over her shoulder at the guard who now looms between the two of you, prepared to defend if need be, “Oh! Hello, pleasure to meet you.” She reaches a hand out to the guard and when he doesn’t go to take it, she snatches his hand up from his side in a firm handshake.

You’re more forthcoming with your hand when she turns to you, though you’re not at all sure why she’s bothering to introduce herself. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. And flipped you off while they were at it.

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” One of the cops pipes up from behind you, eyes fixed on the woman.

Her smile grows wider, “Not at all, officer. I just thought this all looked so… curious.” She gestures between the cop car and Bruce’s car with one French-tipped finger, “You wouldn’t happen to be a celebrity doctor, would you? Plumping up the pillow-faces of our city’s darling socialites, perhaps?”

You try to scoot around the woman, but she moves with you, keeping perfect eye contact with you the whole time, “I’m real sorry, but I need to get going. I have an appointment-“

“With Bruce Wayne?”

You flinch. The woman looks… familiar, now that you’re looking at her more closely. Her name escapes you. “Excuse me?”

“Bruce Wayne. That’s his car- well, one of them anyway. A source of mine says it’s the same one from two days ago when you both arrived together for… something. And the same one from a few weeks ago; if I recall, Mr. Wayne made a generous donation—a whole wing!—to Gotham General earlier this month. And now you’ve been spotted using his car. What’s that all about?”

The same cop from before flanks your side, locking you in with Bruce’s guard and this mysterious woman, “Lady, they’re busy. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“And they don’t have to answer. If you keep this up, I’m gonna write you up for harassment.”

She looked like she’d been waiting to hear that. She reaches within the folds of her coat and pulls out a badge, brandishing an ID for the cop to read, “Whatever happened to freedom of the press?”

You peer at the ID yourself, at the impeccably styled photograph of the same woman with the same blonde hair falling in loose, Hollywood curls that frame her smile. Beside her photo is her name: Vicki Vale. You suddenly remember where you’d seen her before.

Vicki knows you know, too. You try to sidestep her for the door but she crowds in on you, barreling through the arms that attempt to hold her back, “Are you Mr. Wayne’s doctor? Is he sick? Is he dying?”

Your lip curls back in a snarl, “What ever happened to HIPAA?”

That amuses her. “Is he in the car right now? Is that why you’ve got all this security? Is Bruce Wayne paying for your protection after you were taken hostage a few weeks ago?”

The cop grabs Vicki by the upper arm, managing to wrangle her away from you, but she only pivots to the car, tapping her nails on the tinted windows and calling out for Bruce to comment. You almost feel sorry for her, in the way you might feel sorry for a rabid dog walking in circles on a busy street.

You feel a hand on your back and Bruce’s guard ushers you quickly into the hospital, even as Vicki shouts after you for clarification on Bruce’s whereabouts. His expression, as always, is flat.

When you’re far enough away from the lobby, you ask, “Does that kind of thing happen to… him a lot?”

The guard doesn’t bother to pause in his stride, doesn’t even bother to look down at you as he answers, “Yes.”

You supposed if you had to deal with people like Vicki Vale all your life, you’d become a recluse too.

At the very least, you hadn’t said anything damning. She would have nothing to go off of with whatever soundbite she managed to grab from you, and God save her editor when they’d inevitably have to cut out her getting threatened by a cop.

She’d been waiting for you, though. How she knew you’d be here, at this time, meant she’d either been tailing you or she had someone on her payroll doing it for her. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Bruce had been in your office twice, but you had never been in his.

It was bigger, obviously; it’s two floors below the penthouse with a receptionist outside and some hallways leading to God knows where. The receptionist—Jennifer, who insists you call her Jenny—is very forthcoming with refreshments as you wait outside for Bruce’s meeting to finish. You decide there’s no better time than now to pick apart the marble floors and TVs on the wall replaying WE’s corporate reel.

The lobby downstairs was modern, clearly remodeled, but Bruce’s office and penthouse were comparatively frozen in time. You could almost picture the first Waynes walking through here all those years ago. Everything—from the luxurious leather chair you were sitting on, to the warm low light, to the gentle clicking of Jenny’s fingers on the keyboard, to the empty glass of sparkling water she’d given you had almost made you forget that you were currently living in the penthouse upstairs.

The door to Bruce’s office opens, breaking you out of your contemplation. A man in a fine suit walks out, chatting with Bruce, though you couldn’t see the latter from where you were sitting. You can only catch the last half of their conversation: something about an auction?

You don’t have much time to think on it. Jenny quickly rises from her desk and slips into Bruce’s office, and a few seconds later comes out to invite you in.

You don’t see Bruce at first. The room is just as big as you imagined. Bruce’s desk is right across from the doors, backlit by large windows letting in the noonday light. It’s a heavy, wooden thing that is far bigger than it really has any business being with next to nothing actually on it. And, notably, he is not sitting at it.

It takes you a second to spot him to your left at a built-in bar, washing out a glass of what looked like dark liquor down the drain. It isn’t until Jenny shuts the door behind you that he looks over at you, setting the empty glass on the counter.

Today, he’d forgone a sweater for a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. You noted the healed over cuts and scars on his arms and wondered if people asked about them the way you had, enchanted (rather than perplexed) by stories of martial arts hobbies with no concerns for where he went at night. He watches you thinking about it, but before you can ask, he speaks first, “So, you met Vicki.”

Your shoulders slump just at the mention of her. Bruce catches it and a smile, however small, warms up his expression. “Unfortunately.”

“Bet she made an impression.”

You cross the room in a few strides, undoing your coat and throwing it over a nearby chair, “She’s tactless. She said her source recognized your car and now she wants to know what we are to each other,” You pause in your ranting when you see him pour a bit of brandy into the glass next to him, “Is that for me?”

He casually hands it to you, “You look like you need it.”

You don’t have the marbles to take offense to that at the moment. You knock back the shot in one go, then go to pour yourself another one as Bruce watches you. After you throw back the second one, you realize that he hasn’t responded to you. “Weren’t you listening? I said she’s following us.”

“Plenty of reporters are, she’s not special.”

“Wh- sorry, what?”

Bruce shrugs, “Vicki Vale isn’t the only reporter in Gotham who knows what cars I drive, who I go to lunch with, or where I put my money.”

“Isn’t that…” You start to ask, but the way Bruce is looking at you makes you feel like your perfectly reasonable question has a perfectly obvious answer already, “…isn’t that bad?”

“Not when I know what cars they drive. I know who works for them. When I don't want to be seen, I’m not seen. They don’t have that luxury.”

“You keep tabs on all of them?”

You watch Bruce lean against the bar to face you, one hand in the pocket of his- okay, whoa. Either his thighs were getting bigger or his pants were getting tighter. You don’t remember his other suits being this… formfitting. You can’t help but notice how they stretch as he reclines, and though your eyes flick back up to his before he can catch you, he makes no mention of it… even if his eyes narrow some. He waits until he’s sure he has your undivided attention, “I like to be informed. Especially since we’re selling a narrative, now.”

“A narrative.” After a moment, it clicks in your mind. “That we’re together. The narrative we never agreed on selling.”

Bruce brushes right past that, “So what’d you tell Vicki?”

You pour yourself a third shot, though it’s a bit more modest. You cap off his brandy and move away from the bar as if it would silence the siren song of day-drinking, “I told her that asking if you're dying is a HIPAA violation.” Bruce's mouth twitches as if containing a laugh. "What?"

You watch him contemplate telling you, and then, as if he suddenly thinks better of it, he shakes his head. “You just reminded me. If we do agree to do this, I will have to fire you. Patient ethics."

“Which is another reason why we probably shouldn’t do it.”

His head tilts, “Probably?”

You flush. You sip on your drink, folding your other arm around your waist as he questions you with his eyes, “I just… I’m frustrated. I hate this. I hate that the safest choice here is to hide away while you take care of it. It’s not that I don’t trust you to do it, I just don’t want to run away.”

Bruce watches you in that way of his, calculating and assessing. “Going in alone is running away too. You’d be Isaac bound at the altar.”

“And you, Abraham? Delivering me to a cruel god?” A rush of exasperation sours his expression. “I’d be stopping him. It’s me he wants.”

“And what about your parents? Your friends? Judith? You’d be fine leaving them to bury you?”

“Of course I’m not- of course not.”

“Then you don’t have to do it. Trust me.”

“I do trust…” You stare at him for a moment, “I trust you. I have to. But you get that this is weird, right? Getting together for the press? Putting all eyes on us? You get why this feels weird for me, don’t you?” Bruce is quiet, holding your gaze steady. You know that this plan wasn’t his first choice, and yet he didn’t look nearly as put off by it as you were. Perhaps it was another way you two differed. Something else to chalk up to being so rich that things like this- maneuvers like this become necessary. “Why do you want to do it?”

He pushes himself off the bar, taking a step and then another until he’s squarely in front of you. You have to squeeze your hands into fists to tamp down the immediate flight response you feel being this close to him, seeing this almost unguarded side to him. It was different from the deer-in-headlights deal he had when you first met: open, but unsure. It rocks you that he doesn’t look so unsure anymore. You swallow and keep his gaze, but it feels like a lot more work for you than it is for him.

“You said you don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to make you. We need a good reason for me to stick by your side. This is a solution.”

“You don’t need to stick by me. I’ve got a detail, remember?”

“I don’t trust two cops to keep you safe.”

“Your guards, then. You’ve got more than enough to do the job for you.”

Something in Bruce’s eyes flicker, “Maybe I want it to be me.”

Your courage slips. Your lips part, sounding out words you can’t bring yourself to say. What do you say to that?

He wants it to be him. He wants to be the one to keep you safe.

Logically, you know he’s right. GCPD’s finest couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and dexterity. They couldn’t even keep him out of their servers. And his guards were better, but they were still fallible. A gunshot or a stab wound would take them out just as easily as it would anyone else. The man before you had survived both of those things and more.

Uncanny warmth unfurls your fists. It curls around your rib cage, through each bone, around each lung, worming its way up your throat and unspooling in your mind. You feel warm all over. It is a terribly strange feeling to have for Bruce Wayne, but you’re having it all the same.

If he was still just Batman to you, you might’ve done something you couldn’t easily take back.

You suddenly wish for the times when that was the case, when blindfolds were commonplace, so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye or think through how one might have gone through with those thoughts, if one had the chance- “As far as reasons go,” you struggle around the lump in your throat, “That’s not the worst.”

Bruce smiles.

He skirts around you and heads for the desk as you watch him go, the scent of him finally permeating past your defenses. He didn’t smell like green apple today—more sandalwood or pine—and as you debate on the specific notes, he comes back to you with a flier in hand. It takes your scent-drunk mind a minute to read it.

Gotham City Food Bank presents: The Thanksgiving Bachelor Auction!

You stare. Bruce is still holding the flier out to you, expecting a reaction. You can’t really think of one. “Uh.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Why…?”

“The food bank puts together Thanksgiving baskets every year for the needy: turkeys, tofu, yams, stuffing, the works. They do a charity event to raise money to stuff the baskets. It’s for a good cause.”

“That’s awesome. What does this have to do- oh, fuck.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. You recall what the man from earlier mentioned about an “auction”. You snatch the flier away to look at the finer details. It would be this weekend, there were six bachelors planned (including Bruce), and each person was encouraged to bid big for charity. Dinner would be provided. It sounded nice.

“You can bring Dr. Madison,” Bruce offers, “I think she likes me.”

She does. She painfully does. You could imagine her emptying this month's and last month's paycheck on a date with Bruce. Taking him to the nicest (and least vandalized) sushi joint in the city, engaging him with tales of the kids she's saved and her love of Broadway. Pampering him with praises for his charity work, admiring him openly and easily, charming him the way she charmed him at General.

She is a charming, sweet, beautiful woman. Bruce would look very good with her, even for charity. You wonder what things would've been like had he broken into her apartment instead of yours.

“Just wait 'til she finds out you personally invited her," you force a laugh, "She's going to have to take out a loan."

"I didn't know you were planning to bid on me, too." He's joking. Obviously, he's joking, if the barely restrained smile is anything to go by.

"In your dreams, maybe." Bruce shrugs. "But... I thought we were creating a narrative. Letting someone else buy you for a night isn't very romantic." You hate how hesitant you sound, like the idea of it displeased you. You don’t mean to sound that way, of course. It's just that if anyone were going to go on a date with Bruce... shouldn't it be you?

“The dates are just for fun. You'd be my real date.” His real date. God. “It would make you look like a good sport." He sees you mulling it over, still unsure. He folds the flier into his pocket. "Or not. We don't have to tell them anything yet. I wouldn't want to make it awkward for Dr. Madison if-“

If what? If she found out you were "dating" Bruce days after telling her to her face that you didn't know his relationship status? God forbid she rub it in your face after you spent so long being indifferent about him. “It's fine. We'll come. But maybe hold off on calling me your real date until you’ve fired me. Officially. You know.”

“I'll have my people talk to your people.”

You feel queasy at the smile he gives you, so casual and reassuring. You could really use a lie-down right about now. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you at home.”

Bruce blinks, but you’re already heading for the doors of his office before you've realized what you just called his place. You hear a quiet “see you” from behind, but you don’t dare to look back.

“Please don’t agitate the inmates. We are liable for anything that happens to you on the premises, but if you go poking around where you shouldn’t, that’s on you.”

The corrections officer hands you a clip-on badge with your name on it, but when she goes to ask Batman for his ID, she hesitates.

“He’s with me.” Detective Gordon assures her from his other side. The officer’s eyes narrow. James raises an eyebrow, “I talked to the warden about it. If you’d like to bring it up with him.”

That seems to be all the convincing she needs. She passes James his badge and gestures for you three to continue on down toward the visitation room.

It had been a hassle getting Bruce through the metal detectors, and it had been distraction enough that it didn’t weigh on you just who you were going to see until you were already in the room.

It was wide, with vending machines and a couple of tables scattered about, barred windows allowing a look into the unusually sunny afternoon outside. A handful of inmates were already there: some visiting family, others meeting with lawyers. It made it easy to spot him. Lucien was the only one alone, and from the looks of him, he was more happy to see you than you were to see him.

As you three walk over, he stands from the table, grinning ear-to-ear. You barely remembered his face from when you were younger, save for the same patchy beard that had yet to fill in after all these years. He greets Bruce first, holding out a hand, “Wow. You know, I’ve never seen you up close before. Kinda glad about that.”

Bruce does not shake his hand. Lucien’s smile is unwavering. His eyes slide past yours to meet the detective’s, and James shakes his hand out of pity.

It isn’t until you and James sit down that Lucien finally looks at you dead on. “You look good.” You feel your stomach lurch. It didn’t feel good to hear, especially when he looked at you like freshly caught prey. When you make no move to reply to that, he shrugs, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I hear you’re a doctor now. Really worked your way up from gutter trash, huh?”

Your expression hardens and he snickers.

James cuts in for you, “Mr. Goulding, we requested a visit because we think you might be able to help us with an ongoing case you were involved in. Can you tell us what you remember about Dimitri Young?”

Lucien’s eyes slither back to James, “Not much. Kid wasn’t with us long. He was… skinny. Cried easy. Up Nat’s ass all the time.”

“Were you close with Ms. Young?”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say that. We worked with each other. Ran the trade for a while with a couple other kids. Got a lot of customer service experience back then. She was… nice. Shame what happened.”

James raises an eyebrow, “Seems like you were on good terms. And after Natalie was killed, did you keep up with Dimitri? Visit him at Arkham, maybe? Write him letters?”

Lucien glances at you. “Well… it was tricky. Thanks to the good doctor and friends, I had to steer clear of the whole thing for a while. Felt bad for the kid, though. When I heard about the plea deal… I’d have taken life here over Arkham. I don’t care how fucked up the kid got over Nat’s death. What they’re doing down there?” He looks over at James and grimaces, “That’s the real criminal shit.”

You remembered that. His lawyer had pleaded insanity under the guise he’d get parole on good behavior, gain sympathy for having lost his only family so brutally. You remembered what Bruce said too; he’d been good. He was doing good until he saw you.

James gears up to ask another question but Lucien cuts him off, “Are they gonna talk or are they just decoration?” He points his finger at you and Bruce who hovers over your shoulder.

You wring your hands underneath the table, feeling Bruce’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. The truth was that you had a list of questions to ask him. You’d stayed up all night writing them down, rehearsing them.

Now, you could only remember Natalie and the barrel of her gun.

Lucien was there, too. He was on the frays of the memory as he always was. The shootout had yielded successes and failures, and Lucien, who’d been there that night—who laughed as Alex laughed and laughed harder when the bullet nestled itself into the meat of her brain—had not been found for years after that. You thought sometimes that you saw him on the street, but his appearance in your memory was just as frayed.

It all comes back to you now that you’re sitting in front of him. The everyman, a person meant to blend into the crowd. It didn’t surprise you that he’d managed to stay out of here for so long.

“…You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” James’ voice floats in between your musing, making you aware of his and Lucien’s eyes on you. Lucien is still smiling, strands of golden hair slipping out of the small bun at the back of his head.

“Why did you stay with the Vipers for so long?”

Your question surprises him, like he hadn’t expected you to have a voice after all these years, “I was open to new opportunities. But they paid well and you’re almost guaranteed a good position if you don’t get gunned down before 18. I was running my own little unit of teenyboopers before I got locked up.”

You frown. How casual he is describing it all. “They didn’t toss you aside as soon as you got too old to control?”

“No, no. That was your friend’s big issue, wasn’t it? Scared to be controlled. Nah. The boss man liked me. You know they like ‘em young, easy to impress upon and all that. They want the lifelong loyalty. I’ve never been that devoted, you know? But I liked the money.”

“Do you know what happened to Dimitri?” This question, Bruce asks. For the first time, you see Lucien’s smile dim some.

Lucien clears his throat, “No. Kid kick the bucket?”

“He broke out with some inmates not too long ago. He’s on the street hunting down people related to Nat’s case.”

Lucien looks from Bruce to you, then breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. The sound is grating to your ears. “Holy shit. He wants to kill you.”

“He’s killed one person already,” James stresses, trying to save you the humiliation. “We need to know if you think he could be working with the Vipers again. We believe someone is supplying him with… venom.”

“Venom? Fuck me. That’s expensive, especially those newfangled strains they had on the street when I was out. Can really fuck you up if you’re not careful.”

“Did the Vipers have their hands on that kind of stuff? You were a lieutenant after all.”

“Maybe. Not as much as they did drops. That was all the rage. Venom’s too volatile and, like I said, it can really fuck you up,” Lucien exhales hard through his nose. “If Dimitri’s on that, he’s not gonna last. Especially if the Vipers are giving it to him.”

You frown, “Why especially?”

“I mean, come on. Same reason you and your friend beat the shit out of him all those years ago,” You flinch at the memory. “He was weak and nobody gave a shit about him except Nat. My guess is the kid probably went back to ‘em for help, and they saw an opportunity to make him a lab rat.” You feel Bruce shift behind you as his cape brushes what little of your arm you were allowed to leave exposed here. Lucien’s eyes drift up Bruce’s body, sparkling with some new recollection, “And with Mr. Vengeance on the streets, I imagine juicing your best men up with venom oughtta make a nice challenge.”

Lucien watches as you process what he'd realized instantly. Behind the feigned impassivity, some little bit of him seems to find this just as awful as you do. Even if it's just pity, a shake of the head as foresight grants him the knowledge that what comes next will undoubtedly be a tragedy.

It had to have been Dimitri’s first time on venom when he attacked Russo, and as uncoordinated as he was, he had put up a fight against Bruce. You couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if he got better at it. If he got more of it. And he would, if the Vipers had any sense. You knew they didn't give a shit about you, or Russo, or Alex, or Dimitri. They were just hoping that his rage would make a casualty out of the Batman.

He was going to kill himself for the chance. And the Vipers wouldn't care. They would leave his doped up, bloated carcass in the street like they had left Nat.

You realize that you aren't breathing when you feel a cool hand on your upper back, closing around your scruff and sending a jolt of awareness through you. You almost think that it's Dimitri—having crawled out of your racing thoughts and come to take you once and for all—before realizing that it was Bruce, hovering so close now that his cape brushed your shoulders. His leather-clad thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, and when you look up to see him looking down at you, you catch him imploring you for something. Urging you to get out of your head.

Looking at him reminds you to breathe. You take one deep breath in, holding his gaze, and turn back to Lucien.

When you do, he looks different now. His eyes linger on Bruce’s hand. When you ask him your next question, he doesn’t seem to delight in the drama of it anymore, “After Dimitri was put away, what did the Vipers do?”

Lucien stares at you, then past you. His tone is solemn after a few moments of silence, “It was business as usual. They packed up what they could, moved to their other safe-houses in the city, relocated and reallocated. They talked about… the kid costing more than he was worth. Handful of us pitched in and got Nat a grave. I’ve been a few times. Not recently. It was nice.”

“Where?”

His eyes narrow at you, “Why do you give a shit? You feel guilty? Wanna leave some flowers for the dearly departed?”

You feel your lower lip wobble and you curse the feelings burning inside you. You were trying so hard to keep it together. “Do you think any of the Vipers would bother to tell him?”

He stares at you for a minute. Someone new walks into your peripheral view. It’s one of the correctional officers warning you about time. Something soft coats Lucien’s voice then, "She's in St. Agatha’s cemetery, near the treeline. The name on the marker is Adelpha Lions. We couldn't bury her as Natalie.”

Adelpha Lions. St. Agatha's. You think about bringing her flowers, but the thought leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

The officer from before comes back to escort the three of you out, and Lucien doesn't bother to acknowledge her or James thanking him for his time. He only watches you, leveling you with a look of such contempt that you feel your chest hollow out, breath stolen again. He watches you well until the door to the visitation room swings shut.

Bruce and James walk ahead of you, though you notice that Bruce lags behind, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you're keeping up. James mentions something about keeping an eye on the cemetery, just in case Dimitri does know about it, and it leaves the same terrible taste in your mouth from before.

You know you ought to say something, but you find yourself drifting after them, mind elsewhere, stuck on the way Lucien looked at you. It was like a switch flipped when he saw Bruce touch you.

Why had he touched you? So blatantly, so intimately? He had to have known how that would look. Could it have been that he didn't care? Or, that he cared more about you?

You peek at Bruce’s profile as you walk; the cold lights above you both make the black of his cowl stand out, but they also make the blue of his eyes that much more piercing when they suddenly zero in on you. Your name is called. You look to the side and see James staring at you, expecting, worried almost, “You good back there?”

“Sorry. What?”

“I said I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Alone. If you don't mind.”

You look at Bruce. His eyes have focused on James now, searching for what he might want to talk about. You wished you could read minds. You decide it couldn't hurt to ask, “Can I ask what about?”

“Just some... questions. We haven't had the chance to really speak since the night you were attacked. I'd like to follow up with you." You bristle when you realize he expects Bruce to fully leave. James notices, glancing between you and Bruce. "I’ll drop you back at Wayne Tower, since your detail says that’s where you’re staying now.” When you don't make a move to confirm, he sighs, jerking his thumb toward the exit, "...I'll let you two talk."

You watch him walk toward the parking garage, just as Bruce crowds up against you, dropping his voice to a whisper, "He wants to know about me."

"Yeah, no shit. What do I say to him?"

"I told him I'd look into Bruce Wayne to keep him off my trail. There's not much I can do since you told him what you saw." You can hear the irritation bleed through his words. "As far as he knows, Bruce Wayne could be a suspect and you could be in danger."

You curse under your breath, "So I need to clear your name."

"What exactly did you tell him the night you were attacked? Exactly."

"I... I said that I had reason to believe... uh, confidential information was leaked to Bruce."

"Did you tell him exactly what the information was?"

"No."

"Did you tell him where you saw it?"

"No. Just that I knew you knew something you shouldn't. But he knows I had no proof."

Bruce goes quiet. You see him looking off to the side, eyes flicking to and from as he thinks about what to say next. Each second feels like a minute, and you keep watch over the direction James went for fear he'd come looking for you after too long.

You feel Bruce's hand take your upper arm and he brings you closer, tucking you away from the security cameras overhead and into him instead, "Can you lie?"

"You want me to lie to a detective?"

"We don't have a lot of options here. Can you lie?"

You frown, biting into your bottom lip to ground yourself. The pain focuses you some, "What do you want me to say?"

It's your luck that James is patient. A few minutes later, you find him propped up against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for you and Bruce. Bruce gives you both a single nod before heading off to his own car, leaving you alone with the detective and the world of questions he could be gearing up to ask you.

But before you prepare yourself for the first one, James walks around to the driver's side door, flashing you a playful look, “You ever seen the Bat Signal up close?”

The answer was obviously no, but now that it was right in front of you, you wanted nothing more than to see it turned on. You'd seen it light up the cloudy night sky a million times it felt like, and it never failed to take your breath away. It's far too sunny out to see it now. As the chilly breeze tries to sneak under your clothes, you turn to watch the sunlight glint off the skyscrapers, enjoying the little bit snowy Gotham afforded this late in the year.

The city’s still loud from this high up, but it’s different. Kind of like how it felt watching the city from the penthouse. Up here, it felt secluded. Private. Perhaps that’s why James picked it. He kicks the base of the floodlight with his shoe and it barely tremors, “Was a hell of a time trying to get this thing up here. Chief's still coming around to it.”

You think about the burner phone in your pocket. Bruce’s relationship with the rest of the GCPD was… strained at best, but he and James seemed close; you wondered just how deep their relationship went, exactly. Apparently, not deep enough to tell him who he was.

His voice catches your attention just then. “You living with Wayne, now? How'd that happen?"

You breath out a heavy sigh, “I uh… yeah. He offered. After the whole thing with Dimitri. Just until he’s caught.”

“That’s awfully generous.” You don’t respond to that, so he presses more. "Did he offer or did he...?"

"He offered. No coercion." That wasn't entirely the truth, but you had no room for nuance right now.

“Do you feel safe with him?”

“I do.”

“You seemed worried when we first talked about him. You said he had your file.”

“I... I said that I thought he had access to it. Because of something he said."

James’ eyes narrow at you, watching you with his head tilted. “What'd he say to you?"

"He just mentioned something about the... the case. I told him where I grew up and it jogged a memory."

"Is that so?"

You cursed how apathetic James could make himself look. You had no clue if this was working on him, only that you had to follow through with this, seams tight, no loopholes. "He heard about the shooting. His butler, Alfred, he's always been really protective of Bruce. Everyone knew the Vipers snatched kids with no one to check on them, I think he just wanted Bruce to stay safe. Make sure he didn't make the wrong decision if he went out and got himself in trouble. Like I did."

"So, you told Wayne where you grew up, he brought up the shooting, it triggered something in you. You assumed he knew about your file and you felt threatened. That's why you went to the Bat."

"Yeah."

"And now... nothing?" James raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the empty air. "It's all good now?"

It wouldn't be a good story if it was all good. You twist away from James, leaning against a nearby pillar, "Not exactly. I don't know if he really knows or not, it just felt like a scary coincidence. You know? But I told Batman and he said he'd look into it. I trust him above all else."

"You seemed so sure the night I interviewed you."

"I was looking for patterns."

James hums. "The Bat seems to really like you."

That was a shift. You perk up a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He speaks highly of you. Says I can trust you like I trust him. If you say you feel safe for now, I trust you." Your skin prickles with flattery. "There's just something that's not quite making sense to me."

“Oh?”

"When I looked into your file, nothing looked out of place. GCPD keeps a log of who accesses a file, and from what I could tell, it hadn’t been touched in years. It looked fine… at first.”

Had this been a few days ago, this information would have shook you to your core. It still does, but for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m—admittedly—not great with computers. Normally, I’d ask the guys down in IT about this kind of thing, but seeing as… anyone could be involved, I had my daughter take a look at it. She-“

“Your daughter?”

James pauses. You were no cop, but that didn’t sound particularly legal. Then again, you didn’t have much room to speak. “She… she showed me the metadata, beyond just the stuff we usually see up front, and she found something. The database logs who accesses what because poking around files you have no business looking at can get your badge taken. Needless to say, she found more than a few things wrong.”

“Oh?” This time, your “oh” sounds decidedly more nervous.

“The name and badge number of the last person to access your file was scrubbed from the frontend, but it was still available on the backend. It was an officer, Paul Brown. When I pulled him aside to ask why he needed your file, he claimed he didn’t know anything about it or you. He seemed to be telling the truth, but doing some further digging, I found a trail of cases he’d been accessing over the past two years. Cases related to certain notable figures in the city.”

Notable figures. Like Bruce? Was there more he hadn’t told you?

"I found a connection between those cases and some recent movement from the Penguin. Turned out the guy was a mole feeding intel to Cobblepot. And not just him. I was checking the files he accessed against a timeline of events, and I have reason to believe he’s been feeding a couple of politicians the same need-to-know information. Politicians like Daniel Roberts.”

“Councilman Roberts.” You feel your blood pressure rise as James nods, “Detective, I don’t mean to be rude, but should I even be hearing about this? This sounds serious, way too serious for me-“

“You were there that night at the party Wayne threw, and so was Roberts.”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. There were tons of politicians there who support the mayor. Bruce is interested in politics. Doesn’t mean he’s in bed with them.”

Your defense seems to intrigue James. He rests an arm on the floodlight, “Did the two seem chummy at the party?”

“They didn’t really… talk. I mean, he intervened when I got into an argument with Roberts, but-“

“An argument about what?”

You could kick yourself. It was like this man had a skill for drawing the truth out of you. “It was stupid. He said some stuff about Batman and it got me riled up. Bruce put out the fire.”

“Roberts is the most vocal anti-vigilante member on the city council. Now I know he's connected to a dirty cop, and that he's in Bruce Wayne's circle. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?”

You swallow, “What exactly are these questions leading to, detective?”

James moves away from the floodlight, approaching you slowly, cautiously, as if he expected you to take flight the second he got too close. “You told me that night that you knew Wayne had information about you he shouldn't have. I found the thread, I pulled it, and now I find Wayne at the center all over again. I'm looking for patterns, too. So, I'm going to ask you again," You watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, flipping the screen to you. In big, bold text, it reads, "NOD IF WE'RE BEING RECORDED" "Are you sure you're safe?"

You should win an Emmy for how you school your expression into one of complete nothingness. All the while in your head, you are cursing the very bed Bruce was conceived upon. You curse him for leaving you here to explain all this, but most of all, you wish you’d kept his bottle of brandy.

You shake your head. James blinks. "I'm sure." You watch him exhale heavily, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I'm telling you what I believe, detective. I believe I was wrong about Bruce Wayne."

"Maybe. But maybe there's more out there I still need to find."

"You're a good detective, James. Thank you for caring so much. If you can't trust me, trust Batman. If there's something to find, he'll find it."

You can see the slight shake in James’ shoulders. You wonder if he’s starting to freeze up here. You reach into your pocket and hand him one of your warmers, and though he recoils when you first hold out your hand, he thinks about it for a moment, then takes it. "You and the Bat..." He starts, rubbing his thumb against the heat pack in his hand. "He tell you who he is?"

You dodge the question as stealthily as you can, "Did he tell you?"

James considers your question, stern-faced and shivering, “No. But I have my theories." After a moment, he side-eyes you. "You didn't answer my question."

"It's... not for me to say."

He's not satisfied, and you didn’t expect him to be, but he looks too tired to argue now. He runs a hand along his face and looks out onto the city horizon. Under his breath, you hear him whisper, “Yeah. I figured.”

"He trusts you a lot, you know. For the record. I can see why."

You watch him reach into the pocket of his coat and pull out a lighter and cigarette, bringing it to his lips to take a long, deep drag. He holds one out to you, but you shake your head. You'd never been one for smoking (you'd seen the effect it had on the insides), but you could envy the temporary peace on James' face as he blows out a cloud of smoke. "Not a lot of that to spare these days."

a/n: this was a bitch to write with a headache

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #mjwrites #bw; rprt #fandom; dc

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voxiteri · 12 days ago

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BG3 Companions When Tav/Reader is sick

Warnings: general sick talk

Post-game (enough that I'm saying Karlach is home for good she deserves it), romantic, Gale, Halsin, Wyll and Karlach

Gale

The hardest part about being sick while also being Gale's partner, is that the man craves constant physical contact. Being secluded in his home for so long led him to find himself rather touch starved, noticing his yearning soon after your first time together. You being sick and him being a professor did not mix, his students' education depended on him, although the back pain from sleeping on the chaise by the fireplace has been testing that resolve. Tara is the resident messenger, keeping a close eye on you and making sure Gale knows every detail, from you waking up for a moment to you spilling your guts, even if you ask her not to. There's a part of you that's relieved that he doesn't see how gross you feel, but the other part really just wants your husband to come hold you. That being said, if your illness persists more than a few days, Gale is not only seeking medicinals from the local apothecary, but his resolve has totally broken. Sure, he puts some precautionary measures in place, using a spell or potion to boost his immunity, but he didn't care if he got sick anymore. So, after a few painful days of blatant yearning between the two of you, you finally got a decent night's sleep with your head on his chest.

Halsin

If anyone's prepared to fuss over a sick Tav, it's Halsin. He's over 350 years old, and has plenty of experience caring for ill companions. He has a small list of foods that are safe for consumption in your state, even if you might not be able to keep things down right away, he'll encourage you try to eat a little every once in a while. 350 years and his elven immune system have made him very resistant to illness, but even if that wasn't the case, Halsin would still spend his time as close as he can get to you, soothing your aches and chills with his body heat is surely better than any old blanket. He often rests his hand over your stomach, skin to skin, rubbing soft circles with his thumb idly.

Wyll

The man is very upset. Since reconciling with his father and leaving Mizora's deal behind, you and Wyll have been living quite lavishly in Baldur's Gate. That being said, he has unfortunately been given quite stern directions to stay away from you while you're ill. The maids and the private nurses will handle your recovery, and they'll handle it well, but Wyll misses you. So, the only solution is to sneak himself into your room in the dead of night. You only ever wake up a little bit, just enough to get yourself comfortable in his arms. And although his presence has no actual healing powers, the tension in your muscles seems to fade as he holds you close while you drift back to sleep. These nightly visits aren't without issue, though, as not only is Wyll reprimanded by the maids that came to care for you in the morning, but it also doesn't take very long for him to get sick as well. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, though, since now he can stay with you.

Karlach

You'll never have to worry about those pesky chills with Karlach keeping you nice and toasty in your shared bed. She does get a little sad when you say you're too hot, but will change from a full assault cuddle to just having her arm draped across your belly. Her hands are wonderful for working out any aches, all she has to do is use her hand as a heating pad. She does her best, but she's antsy for the day you feel better! Karlach doesn't do well being cooped up, but she doesn't wanna just leave you in your misery. So, as compromise, she runs the errands for you two. Medicine, groceries, maybe she'll even splurge and get you a brand new comforter with a fancy feather filling. She'll stop by the Duke's place to visit Wyll, maybe even bringing home a nurse or doctor to give you a once-over. Her immune system is crazy, she's very much not worried about catching whatever it is you have, so she's all over you for cuddles and kisses just as she always is, since there's no way she's not touching you.

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uh-oh-its-bird · 10 months ago

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Fuck ok, gather 'round it's time for another fic idea spinning off of a crumb from my last post ab time traveling team Ro into founders era:

Summary:

Fact 1; Kakashi is now 3 weeks the last living Hatake.

Fact 2; Tobirama Senju, according to dusty old scrolls Kakashi finds in his father's study, was apparently half Hatake himself.

Lonley and hurting, Kakashi grabs on to this fact with both hands and squeezes it so tight to his aching heart that his hands bleed.

Or, still processing his father's suicide, Konoha's favorite baby genius finds out he's distantly related to history's favorite baby genius and immediatly starts projecting to cope.

Digging through old journals, history books, Kakashi begins to try his own hand at the man's favorite past time; creating jutsu's. It's the both the hardest thing he's ever done and the most satisfying to date.

Ft.

1) Weirdly chill scene with Danzo (fuck that guy but hear me out) where he kinda looks at Kakashi and sees the hint of the shadow of the man who taught him. Not quite there yet, not fully, but crumbs of it. Enough to make him nostalgic, and enough to hand over an old journal that used to belong to Tobirama.

A calculated risk, he tells himself.

An unspoken challenge, both Danzo and Kakashi understand.

He wants to see how far Kakashi can go, finds himself almost eager to see how close he can come to the shadow of the man he seems so determined to chase.

(and if this side project temporarily distracts him for long enough that Orochimaru slips through his fingers, well, it's not like he knows it was this event specifically that caused that plan to fall through)

2) The fact that, both due to time and the Hatake clan's less than stellar reputation during the warring states era, Tobirama's Hatake ancestry got buried. Kakashi finding him on a dusty old family tree has ✨️political implications✨️ for Kakashi specifically. Ones he isn't all too interested in — unless it means he might be able to access things he otherwise wouldn't've.

Also just general fun surprised Pikachu faces from some people as an added bonus.

3) Kakashi becoming even more terrifying than he rightfully should be at that age !! Danzo pretty much handed him a missile and went "lmao good luck" with that journal! He should not have that! He's learning things! He is experimenting! Someone take the missile away from the baby before he learns how to make his own— oh fuck it's too late hes somehow made a nuke instead

4) Orochimaru poking Kakashi with a stick and vice versa. They are making baby genius <--> baby genius eye contact it's mildly concerning, Minato is concerned. Obito is jealous, he wishes the Snake Sannin would poke HIM with a stick

5) Kakashi bites someone. That's it that's the bullet point I just think he should get to bite someone is all.

And more !!! Im ngl I think I like Tobirama just existing in the fic as as an ever present shadow, super influential in just every single chapter but never actually present. But I won't lie if I'm giggling over the thought of Kakashi finding Edo Tensei and going ".... ok but what better way to figure out this new jutsu / seal than to ask the source directly."

Orochimaru would so help he's having too much fun with this to bother experimenting on children for Danzo. Don't talk to him rn he's having fun with corpses!! No not the corpses you asked him to have fun with, the other ones!

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bubble-popping · 4 months ago

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day 55! more ender dragon dream with puppy wolf punz <3

Dream blinked, rubbing sleep from his eyes after recovering from a yawn. "What are you-" He looked back to Punz and seemed to realize something. "Oh! Oh, no no no, it's not like that, Niki!" The maid, Niki, a rabbit hybrid, moved one of her ears to peek at the Prince who wore a sheepish grin. "It's not? Then, who is he?" "This is Punz. He's my personal guard," Dream explained.

"Really? He doesn't look familiar..." She raised a suspicious brow, hands dropping to rest on her hips.

"He's a new recruit, but very promising." He waved off her concern.

"And, he's in your bed because...?"

"The guard's room hasn't been set up yet. My decision was very last minute, not his fault."

After a long moment of scrutiny in which Punz felt the urge to pull the thick blanket over their face, Niki shrugged nonchalantly. "If you say so, Your Highness. I trust your judgment." With that, she lifted the tray from the cart and set it across Dream's lap. "For breakfast this morning you have pancakes with bacon, french toast, an array of our finest fruits, a glass of apple juice and a cup of fresh milk. If you're also hungry, Punz, I can run to the kitchen and get you something."

"You don't have to do that," Dream interrupted, shaking his head. "He can share with me. You go enjoy the rest of your morning, Niki."

"Are you sure, Your Highness?"

"I'm positive," he reassured her with a genuine smile.

Niki returned one of her own. "I'll leave you two alone then and return for the cart later." She curtsied and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Niki." She gave a final nod and closed the door, allowing a silence to settle over the two.

That was until Dream began cutting up his pancakes, effectively doing the same to the quiet with soft clinks of metal and glass.

"Should I hide next time?" Punz spoke through gritted teeth then braced their self. They knew better than to speak out of turn like that, but the anxiety of not having clear instructions got the best of them.

"Hide? Why would you do that?"

"This was all last minute, like you said. Should we keep this a secret?"

"No? That's ridiculous. Once we're done here, I'm taking you to meet my mom so we can finally get preparations started."

The Queen? Punz was going to meet the Queen today? Yeah, sure, he was definitely prepared for that after trying to kill her son last night.

Instead of letting out some panicked, garbled nonsense, Punz managed to ask, "Okay, well, what are your orders until then?"

Dream paused in the middle of a bite and blinked at them, expression akin to something like disgust. They shifted uncomfortably in their spot. Hiding under the blanket sounded like a really good idea again.

The dragon hybrid let out a deep sigh and collected himself, returning to neutrality. "Okay. Clearly, we need to set some ground rules."

Rules, finally! They knew how to follow rules. They were good at that.

"First off, if I have 'orders' for you, I will tell you. Don't ask. Second, if you have no 'orders' to do at the moment, then just chill. You won't get in trouble for not doing something every second of the day. Finally, for now anyway, look at me when we speak. I wanna see your eyes." Punz startled at that, glancing up in surprise. Dream wore a warm smile, holding up three clawed fingers. "I know it's a sign of respect for wolves, but to me respect is when I can see you're listening. My mom isn't like that though, so best to keep your head down in general with her," he explained and Punz struggled to maintain eye contact as he nodded obediently.

For their entire life they'd been punished for making any eye contact whatsoever, so that would take some getting used to.

#dreblr #drunz #staged duo #dsmp fanfic #bubble write #daily drabbles

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slowdivinqs · 9 months ago

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Holding On

Summary: Joel’s injury induced fever causes him to have strange dreams. Ellie mourns for a man she’ll never meet and what he lost

Rating: NOT explicit, fine for everyone to read.

Warnings: Angst. So much angst. Mourning. Thoughts of children passing. Bittersweet memories. Joel’s wound is described. General sadness, my bad.

Word Count: 1,200

A/N: my first ever fic!! ahhh!! I hope I encapsulated what I was thinking correctly haha. This is a little cliche, a little dramatic, but who cares? I’ve had wayyy too much sleep paralysis lately, so I thought I’d play around with similar dreaming scenarios

Note: this fic does follow the game version’s story line ( Joel is unconscious for the whole period of his injury ) and character descriptions ( Sarah )

credits to @ cafekitsune for the dividers!

He can smell smoke outside. Something comforting, he reckons. His eyes are closed, but he’s awake.

Inhaling once more, he determines that his neighbors must be having a barbecue. They could use some spice though, with whatever they’re cooking. His eyes are still closed - the floaty feeling of being in and out of sleeping making him feel nauseous. There’s a breeze from the window, chilling him far more than it should. He should get up and close it, but he feels too tired, worn down from that client who keeps changing his damn mind about what varnish he wants on the desk.

A few minutes of more drifting, thinking about nothing in particular. Kaity’s party on saturday, after Sarah finishes kindergarten. It’s on his calendar, he’ll remember that. Need to buy milk and bananas, give ma a call. Tommy’s birthday next week, need to confirm with the guy ‘bout those Harley’s.

He feels a pressure on his chest. Blinking awake, and being partially blinded by the late afternoon sun shining through the curtains, he looks down and sees soft locks of golden hair, glowing in the rays. Chubby cheeks and hazel eyes that mirror his own. He smiles softly. There you are, sunshine. He aims to say it out loud, but no sound comes.

Sarah settles her head against his chest. She’s so tiny, still.His little girl, his baby, his whole entire world. He peeks down to find her curled up on him, cuddling against him the way he would hold her when she was an infant, when skin to skin contact was the only thing that would make her stop crying. He missed those naps, he’s happy that she still wants to cuddle with him most nights. He’s not strong enough to insist upon her sleeping in her own bed like big girls do.

His eyes slip closed again, the weight of her a comforting pressure that calms his anxieties as soon as he feels it. The steady rhythm of her breathing, up and down, a comfort to him when she was just born, and now.

He wants to play with her hair, feel the silky strands against his calloused hands, smooth his thumb over her baby-soft cheeks and pinch her little nose so he can hear those giggles, but his body is still so damn tired. What’s up with that? he wonders, but doesn’t fret for too long. Sarah’s breathing lulling him to sleep better than any white noise or tablet could.

It’s cold and there’s a pain in his side. Sarah must’ve kicked him in her sleep. He needs to shut the damn window, Sarah’s going to get sick at this rate. Where’s the damn blanket? He blinks awake groggily to find Sarah gone. Missing that pressure on his chest.

Where’d she go? Who’s watching her? She’s not gonna sleep tonight at this rate.

Goddamnit he needs to get up.

“Sarah!” he calls weakly, his voice hoarse and his throat sore. “C’mon honey, where’d you go? You’re goin’ t’get hurt by yourself!”

He still feels like he’s in between being asleep and awake, it’s nauseating. “Sarah!” he calls again, trying to move his body with all his might, unable to do anything but stare at the window, the sun now set, dusk settling in.

Ellie rubs her eyes tiredly, yawning silently to herself as she sits up.

“Ow, my ass…” she grumbles. The hard concrete of the basement is definitely not the best place she’s slept in. Glancing behind her, she studies Joel’s face as she stretches her back. He looks fine, grumpy as usual, which is less worrying than when his face was totally relaxed. He’s shivering, but there’s sweat gathering on his forehead.

“Shit.” Ellie mumbles, gently lifting the thin blanket and moving Joel’s jacket away. His face pinches at this,

“I know it’s cold, give me two seconds Joel.” she mutters to herself quietly. The wound looks bad. Fuck. Her first aid teacher would not be impressed at all.

There’s puss forming, and she knows that’s never a good sign. Her shitty stitch job closed the wound at least, there’s not much more she can do for now but pour little batches of whiskey she found in the house’s cellar over the cut and hope for the best, pulling her t-shirt back over him and reapplying the duck tape.

“S…”

Her head shoots to the side at the tiny sound, pausing mid action, trying to silence everything - even her heart beat as she holds her breath - so she can hear.

No sound comes and she deflates. Maybe he’s just breathing through his mouth and his teeth are whistling. Old people shit.

“Sar…ah.” he mumbles and Ellie stops in her tracks. She blinks a few times, layering him again slowly.

There’s a pinch behind her eyes. Combined stress, those people she killed at the mall, Riley, Henry and Sam, jumping into that damn helicopter, not knowing if Joels going to die or not. And now, this man that she’s grown to care for over these past few months, who’s saved her life more times than she can count. A father, calling out for his dead daughter when he’s fighting for his life on a cold basement floor.

Fat tears roll down her cheeks, blurring her vision as she tries to make sure Joel’s comfortable on the matress. Sniffles and heaving breaths as she mourns for someone she never met, a life Joel lived that he’ll probably never share. She thinks of that picture Maria showed her, shoved away in her backpack, that smiley girl with blonde hair, a smile from Joel that she can’t even imagine gracing his features. A baby, his baby. She can’t imagine that feeling, but she knows it’s more than enough to shatter a person forever, stomp them into tiny little pieces.

You don’t know what loss is.

She’s sure she doesn’t. Not compared to that. Hopefully she never will.

Still crying, for herself and for Joel : for the dad he was and a girl she never met, she lowers herself back down, laying her head on his chest like she was before and slings her arm around him.

She’s not giving up on him, she’s not gonna let him die. She’ll find medicine and food in the morning no matter what.

He hears Sarah crying downstairs, soft sniffles and hiccups.

Panic seeps into his bones.

Fuck, why can’t I move?! Goddamnit she needs me.

The wind is blowing stronger from outside. He’s so cold.

There’s a sharp pinch at his side and he hisses. He can feel something thin : a needle under his skin, for a moment.

Sarah’s still crying, her sobs are getting louder, distorting into some garbled sound that has his heart rate increasing, adrenaline and something stronger pumping through his veins.

He feels sticky, fuck, is that blood?

The sobs of pain and garbled noises are loud, right there. All he can see is her body, twelve years old now, gripping at his shirt while she screams and cries in pain.

He wakes with a start, blinking as he sees the cold, dark ceiling.

It all comes flooding back to him. The university, the Fireflies, those raiders - christ. Where’s Ellie?

He stands up on shaky legs, gripping his side before he calls out into the empty house.

“Ellie?!”

Where the hell did that girl go?

He makes his way up the stairs shakily, gripping the doorway before heading out the front door.

The snow blinds him, but he continues forward.

a/n : tysm for reading!! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #tlou #tlou2 #tlou hbo #joel and ellie #the last of us fic #fanfic #tlou fanfiction #sarah miller #the last of us part one

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hairstevington · 2 years ago

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flowers and ink (part 2)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve like each other, but unfortunately Eddie thinks Steve is dating Robin, and they're both generally just gay disasters who don't know how to communicate

(part one found here)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Tattoo Artist!Eddie, Florist!Steve, fluff, gay panic, Platonic Soulmates Steve and Robin, Will is here and we love him, everybody is a sweetheart and an idiot, it's just cute and funny

A/N: Ha ha, remember when I said this would be two parts? I'm having so much fun with it that I'm making it three parts. I hope you don't mind??? Also this story is officially cross posted on Ao3 for those interested!

“Steve, did you give Eddie a 50% tip?” Robin asked as they walked out of Ink About It.

“Well, I’ve never been that great at math,” Steve mumbled, blushing.

“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s the reason.”

“He did a great job?” Steve offered. He wasn’t even sure why he was denying the obvious. Robin knew Steve way too well to play these games.

“You like Eddie,” she stated.

“I barely know him,” Steve shrugged.

“Yeah, but his work is permanently on your skin forever,” Robin pointed out.

“Jesus, why did you have to say that?” Steve whined with a groan. “He’s hot, okay? Will you just leave it?”

He knew she wouldn’t leave it. It was kind of her specialty.

“It was just so cute seeing you be all flirty with him,” Robin said.

“God, I hope it wasn’t that obvious.”

“Don’t worry, he was too focused on his work to notice,” she assured him. “Come on, we just did something big, let’s celebrate!”

So, they did.

The next time they worked together, the teasing was relentless. Steve couldn’t escape it due to the tattoo shop being right through the glass. He couldn’t help trying to see if Eddie was in there.

“Oh my god, just go back there and talk to him,” Robin suggested.

“I can’t just go there, Robin,” Steve replied. “I’d have to, like, make another appointment or something.”

“You’re willing to get a new tattoo every time you see this guy, Dingus?” Steve chuckled.

“If I have to, sure.” Robin smacked him playfully on the arm.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, and you’re any better?” Steve challenged. “Remind me again why you started working here.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, we’re both gay disasters,” she replied. “I still think you should go over there. I’ll cover for you.”

“Wait, you mean now?” Steve asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Robin confirmed. “It’s been so slow I’m going crazy, Harrington. I need something to spice up the day, and this fits the bill.” She put her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards toward the front door. “Do it. Go.” Steve sighed.

“It’s a good thing I love you, Buckley.”

And with that, he was off to the tattoo parlor.

Bob took the morning off to take Will to brunch, leaving Eddie alone in the shop. He didn’t mind holding the fort, because he could plan breaks and moments to relax based on the appointments he had for the day. Tattoo shops were chill.

Most people generally knew not to walk into a tattoo place without notice. Appointments and communication beforehand were necessary so that the artist could design and adjust, plan their day, etc.

Steve apparently didn’t have that memo. But when he sauntered into Ink About It, Eddie didn’t care about his lack of a heads up.

He was wearing his work polo - light blue with the name of the flower shop over his heart. He looked a bit nervous, but Eddie figured that was because the man clearly did not fit into a place like this.

“Back for more already?” Eddie teased. Steve blushed, and it was cute how nervous tattooing made him. He wondered if Steve regretted getting one in the first place.

“I just have a question,” Steve said. He walked up to the counter and leaned his elbows on it, making the height difference between them drastic enough where Steve had to angle his chin up to make eye contact.

“Shoot,” Eddie permitted.

“Is the damn thing supposed to like - peel?” Steve asked.

Eddie just about lost it. He never wanted to make someone feel bad for not knowing these things, but Steve was just so goddamn cute about it. He pressed his lips together as tightly as he could so he wouldn’t give himself away, then nodded.

“Yup,” Eddie answered. “The first week or so you’ll see it flake off. Don’t pick at it or scrub it or anything.”

“Would it come off if I do?” Steve asked.

Okay. Now the guy HAD to be fucking with him. Don’t laugh don’t laugh be professional do what Bob would do.

“I - uh, well no I’m afraid tattoos are permanent, Steve,” Eddie responded. Steve looked at him dumbly for a second, then shifted back up to standing and burst out laughing.

Eddie watched, confused, until Steve spoke again.

“I’m just fucking with you Eddie. I may not know a lot about tattoos, but I know they’re permanent, okay?” Eddie seeing Steve goof around like this was charming in a way Eddie hadn’t seen yet. He’d really only known Steve with a brave face on, caring for Robin when she got scared. Eddie had already been crushing on Steve, and hearing him laugh now took the crush to new heights.

“Oh,” Eddie said, smiling back with a light chuckle. “Alright then. So yeah, if it’s flaking that’s okay, but I can look at it if you want.” Steve nodded, so Eddie gestured for them to go back to the space where Steve got the tattoo in the first place.

Steve stood there awkwardly, looking at the table he was supposed to sit on, then down at his ankle, then back up.

“How do you want me?” he asked.

Eddie really wished he didn’t say that.

“Uh, you can just sit like you did the other day and pull your pant leg up.” Steve did as told, crossing his left leg over his right so his ankle was in clear view.

Eddie knew at first glance it was healing just fine, but he lingered on his work for an extra few seconds, just to extend the moment as much as he could.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Steve asked, nervously. Eddie shook his head to get himself out of his daze.

“Everything looks good,” he confirmed. “Maybe a bit dry. Are you putting lotion on it?”

Steve nodded, then named a kind of lotion Eddie knew was shit for this sort of thing, but it would do in a pinch. Eddie caught sight of the clock and realized Bob was going to show up with Will any moment.

“I guess I should head out,” Steve said, noticing Eddie’s focus drifting to the time.

“Uh, right,” Eddie said. He really did need Steve to go, but he didn’t want him to. “Yeah, I got - the manager is coming in soon with this kid who I guess is into art. I’m supposed to show him the ropes and -” Eddie paused, realizing he was just about to spill his whole guts to Steve without even thinking about it.

“And?” Steve pressed. Shit. Eddie took a deep breath.

“I guess the kid just came out and Bob thinks he needs another gay person to talk to or something,” Eddie admitted.

“Oh,” Steve replied. Eddie couldn’t read his expression. He definitely looked a bit surprised, but most people did. Eddie couldn’t even count the amount of times someone had said something like, I had no idea. You don’t look it. Like, what the fuck does that even mean? He waited for Steve to say something similar, but instead the door opened.

“Hey, Eds, we’re back!” Bob announced from the waiting area.

“Uh, good luck,” Steve mumbled, fixing his pant leg and standing up. He turned to leave, but froze when he saw the kid. “Will?”

“Steve?!”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Eddie asked, confused.

“Uh, yeah. I kinda used to babysit him,” Steve answered. “How have you been, dude? You’re almost as tall as me now!”

Eddie and Bob watched as Will ran to Steve and hugged him, both of them smiling warmly.

“I’m good! Things are good!” Will said. He separated from Steve and looked to Eddie. “You must be the artist Bob has told me about.”

“That’s me,” Eddie replied with a wave. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, I gotta get back to work,” Steve said, knowing that he was no longer supposed to be there. “But you’re in good hands with Eddie. He just gave me my first tattoo and he’s pretty great.”

Eddie had no idea why Steve was complimenting him so much. He could feel himself blushing.

“You work at the place across the street?” Will asked. Steve nodded. “Yup, with Robin,” he answered.

“Oh, how’s she doing?” Will asked.

“She’s good. Same as always. Still the best person I know.”

Aww. That was sweet. But also annoying. For Eddie, anyway. Their goddamn relationship was long term and solid as ever, apparently.

Steve insisted again that he should get going, and then he was off.

“So,” Eddie said, clapping his hands together. “What do you want to see first?”

They started with a tour of the place. Eddie showed Will his tattooing space first, going over the tools and explaining how it all worked. Then, Will started asking Eddie about his own tattoos, so they went over all of those next. It took a long time, because Eddie had a lot of tattoos to explain, each of them with their own backstory. Some backstories were more involved and coherent than others. Some of them just consisted of, “oh yeah, I was kinda tipsy and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Don’t do that by the way.”

“I don’t want a tattoo, anyway,” Will had responded. Eddie nodded, but had an inkling from the way Will was so fascinated by all this that he’d change his mind someday.

After that, Eddie showed Will a bunch of designs he’d done in the past, then a few he was currently working on. Will ended up showing Eddie some of the drawings he’d done.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie said, completely blown away. “You’re really talented, man.”

“Thanks,” Will replied with a smile. “I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

“That’s awesome. So, you think you’re gonna get into tattooing?”

“I dunno, maybe,” he responded with a shrug. “I’m going to college in the fall for art, but I don’t really know what I’m gonna do with it yet.”

“That’s soooo normal,” Eddie replied. He’d heard people say as much often, so he figured he’d pass the knowledge along. “I didn’t go to college, but I found my place here. I wasn’t an artist my whole life like you, but it turned out to kind of be perfect for me.”

“Isn’t it weird to have your designs on people’s bodies forever?”

“It’s kind of awesome, actually,” Eddie said with a grin. “It was a little wild at first to work on skin, but thankfully they had me start on oranges, first.”

“Really?” Will asked, amused. “I had no idea!”

“Yeah!” Eddie responded. “You wanna try?”

“You just have an orange lying around?”

“I like citrus, what can I tell ya.”

Will practiced a few designs under Eddie’s watch. He caught a glimpse of Bob in the office, smiling at the two of them bonding.

Will was cool. He was sweet. He was also sarcastic in a sneaky way. Sometimes he’d say something that caught Eddie off guard, just because Will seemed shy and quiet at first. He wasn’t, really.

“I know why Bob wanted me to meet you,” Will said. They’d peeled the orange and were now splitting it.

“Hm?” Eddie asked. “I mean, so you could check out the shop, right?”

“It’s okay, I know he wants me to talk to other gay people,” Will pointed out, rolling his eyes. “Bob isn’t that slick.”

Eddie chuckled. Smart kid.

“Yeah, well I’ll talk about it if you want me to, but figured I’d let you bring it up first. When I was your age, I didn’t really wanna talk to anyone, but you’re a lot different than I was.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“Uhhhhhhh….” Eddie looked around nervously. Bob had closed the door to the office. “I was all over the place back then. I was the school freak - that’s literally what they called me.”

Eddie had gotten over the trauma of high school the last few years. His life stabilized, and he realized all the shit people thought about him were irrelevant. He left all of it behind, and he was a lot happier now.

“People bully me too,” Will confessed quietly.

“People suck,” Eddie said with a sigh. “I guess that much hasn’t changed since I graduated. Maybe we aren’t so different after all, then.”

Eddie didn’t think Will dealt drugs or got into fights like Eddie used to, but people don’t have to go through the same things to feel the same things.

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT.

Eddie’s gay. This changes everything.

Steve did his best to exit Ink About It calmly, and it took everything in him not to fully sprint across the street. He still ended up doing a fast walk that was basically a jog.

He flung himself to the door and opened it, taking a deep breath.

“Robin!” he shouted.

His eyes focused on the absolute chaos happening in the shop. People were everywhere, like what the fuck? Robin was manning the register and answering questions as best as she could, but she was clearly in over her head.

“Help,” she mouthed with terror in her eyes.

Steve desperately wanted to tell her that this was karma for her saying she was bored and sending Steve away. He also wanted to tell her about his time at Ink About It. But there were other priorities first.

Steve quickly swooped in to help her cash customers out. She scurried to the back to handle the many customers who wanted to know about the various flowers being sold.

Steve was able to gather through small talk with the customers that prom was happening at the school down the road, and everyone was getting last minute flowers for their dates.

More accurately, the parents were. Some brave kids showed up, but they looked completely lost.

They continued working until the rush died down, leaving the two of them on the edge of exhaustion.

“That was brutal,” Steve muttered as he splayed himself across the counter.

“So brutal,” Robin agreed. She was lying fully on the ground, starfish style. Bits of stems and flower petals surrounded her. It was kind of pretty, actually.

“Hold on, stay right there,” Steve said, pulling his phone from his pocket. Before Robin could object, Steve snapped a picture from above.

“Hey!” she said, sitting up. “I don’t want this moment of my life documented, Steven!”

“Yes, you do. Look.” Steve bent down and showed her the picture. After a moment, she nodded.

“Okay, fine. Yes. That’s going on my Instagram, thank you.”

“You should put it on your Hinge profile, too,” Steve suggested.

“Good idea,” Robin agreed. She jumped to her feet and sighed. “I’m gonna go clean up the back.”

“I’ll be here,” Steve replied.

Ten minutes went by, and then Steve heard a squealing.

“Shit! Fuck!” Robin didn’t actually curse that often, so Steve knew something must be very wrong.

“Robs? You okay back there?” He rounded the corner just as Robin squatted behind some bouquets, concealing herself.

“Don’t!” she yelled. “Okay, well actually I do need your help, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I can’t promise that, but I’ll try,” Steve said with a smirk.

Robin straightened herself back up, and Steve got the full picture of what had happened. Her hair was all kinds of tangled in a watering can.

He laughed so hard he cried.

“I hate you, DIngus,” she muttered, not nearly as amused by the situation.

“This is why you leave the watering to me,” Steve joked. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

This is stupid. This is so stupid. Eddie, you are stupid. Get some help.

He was headed to Flowers for All with unscented lotion. For Steve. Because Eddie had no chill and was a simp.

He didn’t even care if Steve was queer, or if he was taken. Eddie just wanted to talk to him more.

So stupid.

Eddie walked in, triggering the bell above the door. He quickly heard voices from the back.

“Shit! Someone’s here!”

“It’s ok I got it I got it.”

There were more sounds of shuffling for a few seconds before Steve tumbled out of a doorway, blushing.

Oh my god. Did I just interrupt them hooking up?

Eddie somehow felt even more like a dumbass. He wasn’t fazed by them getting it on at work - it’s not like he hadn’t done that before - it’s that he brought goddamn unscented lotion to his client’s place of work, unannounced and unprompted.

“I - shit, sorry,” Eddie said, just about ready to turn and bolt.

“It’s okay!” Steve assured him. “What’s going on Eddie?”

Robin ran out of the room so fast she almost fell over.

“Eddie! What a wonderful surprise!”

There was a teasing quality to her voice that Eddie mistook for her trying to cover up how flustered she was. This was all but confirmed when Steve gently elbowed her in the rib.

“I brought this for you,” Eddie said. He raised the stupid fucking lotion so it was in plain view, then forced himself to walk to the counter and leave it there. “It’s what I use. Your tattoo will heal better. Uh - both of them. For both of you, I mean.”

“Hey, thanks, man.” Steve smiled and grabbed the lotion, inspecting it.

“Do all tattoo artists care this much about their clients?” Robin asked. There was that teasing sound again. Is she jealous or something?

“Well, I - Bob always tells me to be nice so I do my best. Sorry if I interrupted anything.”

Steve and Robin shared a knowing look.

“You didn’t,” Steve said casually. “We’re finally dead again, which is the way we like it.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “It was rough earlier, but we survived.”

“We always do,” Steve added.

They were so friendly and kind, and they clearly loved each other very much. Eddie knew he needed to go. He had to go. He just needs to say goodbye, turn around, and -

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about something,” Eddie blurted out.

Shit.

He didn’t actually have anything to talk about. But luckily, one of his special skills included the ability to never shut the fuck up.

He took a deep breath and decided to do a little improv.

(part three)

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

Check out my Masterlist!

@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth

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#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #robin buckley #bob newby #flowers and ink #modern day au #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve and eddie #writing #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #st fanfic

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thevirgodoll · 1 year ago

Note

Any tips for a first date? - Makeup,Hair,Outfit Ideas💋Plus mannerisms,do’s and don’ts 💅🏾

First Date Tips💕

Disclaimer: Everyone has their preferences but this is what I find to make the most sense 🩷

General Beauty Tips:

Stick to what you know. This isn’t the time to try something new with your look. You want to be as confident as possible.

Play up your best features. For example, more blush to accentuate your cheekbones or lip liner for stronger lips.

Less is more. People across all identities can generally agree on this. While we do want to have some sense of glamour, we never want to overdo it.

Wear comfortable shoes! You never know what y'all could end up doing.

Bring gum or portable mouthwash with you. You need to make sure that breath is FRESH. You don't want something stuck in your teeth either... yikes!

Put powder in your purse so you can go touch up. I suggest going to the bathroom at least once to double check on yourself or at least have a mirror to look at yourself in.

Mannerisms, Do's & Don'ts:

DON'T: Chew with your mouth wide open! If you are talking and your mouth is full, cover your mouth with your hand as you speak.

DO: Put your cloth in your lap so no crumbs/etc spill all over your outfit.

DO: Wipe your mouth with your cloth/napkin.

DO: Make eye contact if you can, if not look between their eyes lol. But eye contact is the most powerful thing on a first date.

DON'T: Go on a date you're uncomfortable with. If they want to walk around a park and that freaks you out, say so.

DON'T: Feel pressured to have your date a certain way. Whatever is YOUR preference, stick to that. But DO be open to creative date ideas.

DO: Engage in creative conversations. Small talk can get tiresome after a while. It helps a LOT if you guys have been on the phone/Facetiming up until this point because it makes it less awkward.

DON'T: Talk about how badly you want a relationship. It's not wise to show desperation, from you or the other person lol.

DO: have a friend you trust and keep them up to date on the entire date. That friend or family member should be ready if something goes wrong. But that friend or family member should also be hyping you up!

DON'T: let them know how much you've been FBI stalking this person. Background checks are imperative, but they don't need to KNOW you've done this let alone dug through their tweets dating back to 7 years ago lol.

DON'T: even think about doing drugs! You need to be SOBER! Unless this is your partner, I DO NOT recommend drinking on this date!!!

DON'T: Overly judge, psychoanalyze or nitpick this individual. AVOID getting too personal omg. While you do want to hit important topics and need to (cause what if they're an incel lol), keep it light and positive. Some reservations DO need to be kept to yourself to not make it overly awkward for both of you.

DON'T: even think about talking about that ex! Better yet, don't tell them anything about them except that it was good and y'all decided to go separate ways. I wouldn't share that something might've occurred until y'all are way more personable. I know it's HARD, but you don't know this person girl!

DO: Use discernment and keep your guard up.

DO: Keep things light, soft, and feminine. You have the power. Don't cuss too much (unless y'all are friends like that), don't go off about things that you hate, just chill. They need to walk away wondering about you rather than thinking about everything you've said.

Things to consider:

As far as the touch barrier, it's all about the vibes you personally have. How personable are you and the other person? What happens after this date is your choice. Only do what YOU are comfortable with.

Have you both been talking up until this point? Personally, I like to talk on the phone for a few days before and familiarize myself. Texting is not the vibes. Y'all are not pen pals!

Have you vetted this individual before this date? What are their views on paying for dates? Are they the romantic type? Have they shown any red flags up until this point? If you haven't vetted them, get ready to. AND DON'T GO EASY ON THEM JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE LONELY! THEY ARE REPLACEABLE! 😭

Make a list of your icks! Are they a sloppy eater? Do they show manners during dinner to the waitress/etc? If doing an activity, do they include you, or are they more worried about themselves? Make a list of what you expect to see also. For example, I expect at least the bare minimum: told I'm beautiful, flowers on a first date, and for the door to be opened lol.

What is the safety level here? Are the two of you acquainted enough for you to get in their car? Remember, this is objectively a stranger (unless otherwise proven). What are the plans that y'all have? The safest rule is to ALWAYS drive yourself in case something goes wrong, and always go somewhere well-lit. Don't drive too far out, either... that shows inconsideration on their behalf for your well-being.

What is the relationship you have with this person? Do they show intention with you even while y'all aren't out and about? Have they made their intentions clear?

If you are comfortable enough, plan the next date. If not, politely remove yourself. Everything weighs on behavior even BEFORE the date, in my opinion.

Here is a bit of a mood board for the first date. Have fun, girl, and just relax. Keep these things in mind but remember YOU are the one they are pursuing, not the other way around. YOU hold the world in your hands. Don't ever go through things as if you need to impress this person. Do THEY impress you? Food for thought. Keep me updated! 🎀

#advice #desires #first date #date night #makeup #fashion #relationship goals #dating #love mood board #love #mood #thee president💕

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bafflement · 9 months ago

Text

Deaged Oz AU - School Daze

Tip blinked as his scroll pinged, he hadn’t been expecting a message, but maybe someone needed to get in contact with him? He flicked the notification open absently, wanting to get back to the conversation he was having with Qrow only to blink down at it in horror. What the hell? Why would he be enrolled in a primary school of all things? This had to be a joke, but if it was then it definitely wasn’t a very funny one.

But no, it very much seemed to claim that he, or rather ‘Wintertip Pine’ was now enrolled in the final year of an Atlas primary school. No, no this wasn’t funny in the slightest. He had a job to do, he couldn’t pause things to go and pretend he was an actual child. A chill seemed to run over him at the mental image that provided. Salem wouldn’t hesitate for a breath before burning it to the ground to get to him. After all, she’d done it before. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to force the imagery that bought up back into the depths of the wizard’s soul… he wasn’t going to think about the consequences to this, it was fixable. It had to be, he’d never survive, having to pretend to actually be the eleven year old his body currently resembled. At least it might grant Salem a moment of amusement before she killed him and anyone else close by? But James knew that, he had to know that attempting to place him in a school would just put everybody else in danger. Unless… was that why he’d fought so hard for his custody, to turn around and pull a power move like this? He wanted desperately to believe that James would never even think of doing something like this, but obviously someone had. If not him, then who?

Some of the shock and anguish must have shown on his face, because Qrow snatched his scroll out of his hand, looking worried. That worry turned to fury as he read the same message Tip had.

“What the hell is Jimmy thinking?” he snarled, almost dropping the scroll in his rush to reread it, hoping he was hallucinating. Looking up from it, he met Tip’s eyes and realised just how haunted they were at the moment. No, this was no hallucination. This was very, very serious. “Doesn’t he realise that you’re Salem’s main target? Dammit, Oz, you’ll be in danger and so will any actual kids caught up in this stupidity. No, we’re going to go and see Jimmy, right now.”

“I was about to suggest that meeting with him would be the best option.” Tip agreed, his voice sounding vaguely distant to his own ears. If this was something James had actually set up? Well, then, they might need to have a far more serious talk about boundaries. It was bad enough that he’d given him a tracker without his consent, but something like this? Putting actual children in danger for what, appearances sake alone? No, that was insupportable. James was a good friend, but if he was starting to think like that, then maybe it might be better to distance himself now. While he still could, for all the fact that the General held temporary guardianship of him and his brother both.

Oh no, what if he’d placed Oscar in school, too? He would be less of a target than Tip was, maybe, but only as long as nobody realised that they were brothers for all intents and purposes. That alone would make him excellent bait to all the wrong people trying to get to him through those he loved. He was just glad that Qrow was more than old enough to look after himself and that the others, for all they were still of an age to be Beacon students were technically fully accredited hunters now. They’d been trained well, he just had to have faith in their abilities.

“Qrow? We need to check, to make sure that Oscar hasn’t been subjected to the same thing. After all, James is technically his guardian, too.”

“If it’s Jimmy, which much though you know I don’t really get on with the guy seems less than certain.” Qrow winced though, arguing in favor of Ironwood wasn’t something he’d ever really seen himself doing but here they were. He seemed to be doing a great many things he was less than comfortable with, lately.

Tip grinned at him, briefly surprised. It was pretty clear he was very distracted by the notification, though.

“Oscar?” Tip asked softly, his brother looking up from his book in curiosity.

“Yes? What do you need?” Oscar asked, registering the serious look on Tip’s face and halfway rising from his chair. Tip shook his head slightly and Oscar settled back down, head cocked to one side.

“Nothing urgent, I just, did you get a scroll notification recently?”

Oscar blinked, looking down at his scroll in confusion, before shrugging. “No? Should I have done?”

“Not really, no.” Tip responded, sounding relieved. “Don’t worry about it.”

“… did something happen?” Oscar asked suspiciously. Tip shrugged back, trying to look nonchalant.

“Nothing urgent. It’s alright, I just needed to check.”

Oscar stared at him for a second before deciding that the blank face his brother wore meant that he was unlikely to get any more of a response tonight. It was always annoying when he did that, but if it was actually important he’d probably find out eventually.

Qrow gestured towards the door and Tip followed him out into the corridor and towards James’ office. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation, but he dearly hoped that Qrow was right and James had not in fact done this. He was in charge of Atlas, with Salem almost at their doorstep. If he’d gone mad on top of everything else, well better not to think about that too deeply. At least the walk would be quiet. Winter was somewhere else right now, so she wouldn’t be here to witness the fallout. What she didn’t know, she couldn’t yell at him over. Right?

James looked up with a smile as Tip and Qrow entered, though that quickly fell away at their expressions. None of them said anything for a few seconds, staring at each other before Tip sighed, laying his scroll on James’ desk, the notification of his supposed enrolment fully visible on its surface.

“Explain.” Was all he said. James blinked at him before picking up the scroll. For a man that was usually rigorously self-disciplined, his feelings were laughably easy to read for once. Shock, followed by a sick sort of horror flashed across his face as he read the mail Tip had been sent. So it really hadn’t been him. But if it wasn’t James, then who was it? He was the only man in Atlas that had even the pretence of being Tip’s guardian, and Aunt Em certainly would never have enrolled him in a school, of all things. She knew better than anyone that he wasn’t actually a child. Besides, she was all the way in Mistral, how would she ever even have heard of the school in question. As some of Tip’s anger drained away, he vaguely recalled hearing the name of it somewhere before. It was probably even a very good school. He just wasn’t in any need of their services. Could this be Salem, hoping to lure him out? It felt different, though… no, something still wasn’t right.

“I… why is this an enrolment notification, Oz? You’re not actually a child, you don’t need to go to an actual school. Even if your next vessel… apologies, but it does have to be said, was an actual child that would be waived. In a school, Salem would know where you were, we couldn’t protect you. Why enrol yourself?”

“I didn’t.” Tip stated, voice still tight with fury. “And since you didn’t either, would you happen to know who did?”

“I can find out.” There was a dark tone to James’ voice now, eyes steely as he turned them back to the scroll. “Although, you may need to take certain tests and exams to test out of school, Oz. That might not even be a bad thing, really. It would provide more of a paper trail, give you more legal standing than you currently possess. Foundling, wasn’t it?”

Tip scowled at that, though he acknowledged that James was probably right. Besides, it wasn’t like foundling was particularly accurate anymore. He wondered if his records still stated that, considering his family and their likely reactions to that little detail, but that was less than important at the moment. What was important was fixing this, or at least making things as quick as possible. At least he could easily test out, even if it would take time he couldn’t really afford to waste right now. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to.

James tracked the request backwards, landing on a rather familiar name. He groaned to himself in annoyed frustration, but he had to admit this was probably at least partially his fault. After all, he had asked Clover to keep Oz out of danger, though this was not what he’d meant. A school, under other circumstances, would even make some sense. Except, of course, for Salem. Except that Oz, for all his physical age was chronologically thirty six. He sighed to himself at that, too. Why his records had been altered by over four years was something he was still unsure of. But then, even when Oz had been obviously all of fifteen in retrospect, the new head of Beacon, everybody had been so eager to believe his stated age. It was easier to think he just looked younger than he was, as opposed to admitting to themselves that Vale had likely actually lost the plot. Anyone else, in that position at that age, would have been an absolute disaster. Ah well, that was a thought for later. He summoned Clover to his office, a dark scowl on his face. This might almost be fun, though it was looking more and more likely that Oz was actually going to have to take those damn tests, At least they knew who to blame, now? At least it wasn’t Salem, so hopefully she didn’t actually know Oz was a kid, either. At least not yet, but then underestimating her was never a good idea, either.

Clover Ebi, ever punctual, strode into James’ office. His face dropped on noticing the acidic glare the General was shooting him, but he hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve that, surely? He was a good soldier and as far as he was aware, he hadn’t committed any acts against the orders he was given. Unless… was this about little Tip Pine? The General had ordered him to protect the boy and keep him out of danger though. The easy way to do that was to put the kid in school. Besides, weren’t children supposed to be in school?

As Ironwood started to yell at him, Clover looked more and more woebegone. He’d only been doing what he thought was right, but apparently that had been the wrong thing to do in this instant? He thought he was just following instructions… why had things suddenly become so much more complicated, and why was the youngest Pine boy always somewhere in the thick of things? Things weren’t meant to be this complicated… he missed the days when everything made sense.

Once he’d dismissed the downtrodden looking Clover, Ironwood settled back in his chair, staring at the scroll that Oz had left behind. He would have to get that back to him at some point, of course, but Oz’s scroll was the only one they had right now capable of interkingdom communication. He wished that Oz knew how he’d done it, but the boy had assured him it wasn’t replicable and he was loathe to deprive Oz of his own communication. It would be so useful, though. Ah well, Oz was nice enough to let him borrow it at times, not that he’d ever break his trust. Part of him still smarted under the idea that Oz had truly thought he would enrol him in a school without his permission, but from Oz’s point of view? Well, he was his guardian, after all… it made sense. If it hadn’t been for Salem, would he have actually done it? There was no way of knowing and he liked to think he was rather better than that, but then he would certainly have been tempted.

Speaking of, would Oscar be better off in a school, he wondered. The boy didn’t have the same excuses Oz did, though that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be a target. If only they weren’t brothers, if only Salem could be trusted to stay away.

Tip, several rooms away, couldn’t see Ironwood’s face as he mulled things over. If he had, he might have had even more second thoughts than he already had been regarding their friendship.

Making a decision, Ironwood resolved to ring the school in question. He didn’t really want to talk to them, but maybe his position as head of Atlas academy… and the Army… would be enough to get them to back down? It was such a silly issue, after all. What was one less student, compared to the danger they’d be in? Not, of course, that he would tell them that, though the mental image of the looks on the faces of the council members if they ever found out was rather amusing in itself. Clover might need to find a very deep hole if that happened, but then he might even deserve it at this point. Ironwood certainly wouldn’t be able to protect him.

He hit call.

The line was picked up by a helpful sounding young woman, who reacted rather predictably to the news that it was General Ironwood on the line. She sounded slightly overawed which was vaguely gratifying. Hopefully he could use this to get Oz out of the situation. It truly was rather ridiculous, after all. Oz was laughably unsuited for a primary school, he could probably pass the tests in his sleep. Not to mention exactly what the teachers would make of someone like him, he’d be their best student… but quite possibly also their very worst nightmare.

“General Ironwood? It’s an honour, sir, may I ask why you’re calling?”

“Ah yes, there seems to have been a mistake and my youngest ward appears to have been enrolled into your school. His name is Wintertip Pine, if you could remove him, that would be for the best.”

“Ah yes, I see his enrolment here. May I ask why you wish to remove him? The records state that he’s eleven, so he’s the right age for our school.”

“Tip is… rather too advanced for a primary school, I fear.” Ironwood sighed, uncertain just how to put it.

“I hate to tell you this sir, but the system won’t let us just unenroll your ward. He’d have to test out.” She really was sorry to say it, but it wasn’t like General Ironwood had been the first proud parent to try this stunt. Imagining him as a parent was rather strange, though. Poor boy.

Sighing, Ironwood arranged for the requisite test packets to be sent to Atlas. It looked like Oz would actually have to take the tests, but at least once it was done, he wouldn’t need to do it again.

Tip filled out the tests rather quickly, grumbling to himself. Thankfully, at this level, his way of writing probably wouldn't be noteworthy. He hoped.

He passed, of course, but that was hardly a surprise, as James said, he could take these in his sleep. He shouldn't have had to, but if it hadn't been Clover, then it might have been someone else. They had a point, the longer the paper trail went, the more proof he had that he was a legitimate citizen. Having more or less appeared out of nowhere according to the records, he needed all the help he could get in that regard.

Clover might need dealing with at some point soon, though. He wasn't actually a child and he really didn't appreciate this. He wondered if it might be an idea to take the tests to graduate high school, too, but as a physical eleven year old, that might gain him too much scrutiny. Besides, high school tests tended to be essay based and he was rather uncertain if he could word those in a way they would expect an actual child to sound like.

Ah well, he'd find out if he had to?

#deaged oz au #headmaster ozpin #rwby ozpin #professor ozpin #qrow branwen #james ironwood #clover ebi #clover ebi is not bright #james ironwood in dad mode #school #tip is annoyed

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thecorvidcurio-if · 1 year ago

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I am, have been and always will be obsessed with your writing. I am soo inlove with Abby but exceptionally excited to meet Kaida. I am always drawn to the crude standoffish characters call me a masochist 🤣♥️ i would love to know how the RO's would react if MC got into a minor accident ending up in the ER and had them as an emergency contact. (If it's not too much trouble)

Also wanted to share my appreciation and say i hope you are doing well. I know writing can be stressful and alot of pressure. Take care of yourself. 😇

This is such a sweet ask thank you for your kind words and well wishes ♥ I promise I'm taking care of myself as best I can. I appreciate you reading and sending this in ♥

Vicente wouldn't think twice about the fact that you put him down as your emergency contact. He's used to it. He's Abby's as well, and Kaida's, and Thea's (Thea is Marina's, Kaida is Shiloh's.) He'd be a fretful mess but once he finds out it's minor he'd lose the frantic edge and just generally be fretting about making sure you're comfortable and have everything you need. Expect to be spoiled, he worries too much and finds the act of care-taking to be soothing.

Abby's reaction to "MC put you as their emergency contact" is "oh yeah I can totally provide emergencies!" Once it is explained what an emergency contact actually is (someone else filled out his form) his reaction is an attempt to be responsible. Trying to keep himself on task to get there and do what he's supposed to do. He'll bring someone with him to help him navigate, literally any of the others except Shiloh would do, and their job is basically to act as intermediary between Abby and Human Society until they can get MC home... and to grab him when he starts wandering off. He's very flattered you put down his name, but he really doesn't think he's the person you want them to call in an emergency. He'll just make things worse, he thinks. Marina would play up how irritated she is to be bothered but really she's just miffed that she's so worried. When she finds out it's nothing serious she's a lot more chill about it, pokes fun at you for whatever happened since it didn't cause any lasting harm, says she better not get a call like that again but notably doesn't say to remove her as the emergency contact.

Thea would seem very put-together on the outside but on the inside she's melting down until she can confirm with her own eyes that MC is okay. There will be a lot of "are you sure you're alright? You're sure that you're sure? Okay but are you s-" She's very attentive and is actually very relieved to be MC's emergency contact so she can personally be sure that all is well. Kaida, similar to Thea, is glad he's the emergency contact. If someone he cares about is going to be in a bad spot, he wants to be the one called about it so he can make sure they're properly taken care of. He's efficient, meticulous, and gets MC out of the hospital in record time. It isn't that he doesn't worry, but when Kaida gets worried it's usually because a situation needs to be Addressed, so he shuts down his emotional responses until he can afford to deal with them. So, his initial panic when called is pushed down to make room for logic.

Shiloh wouldn't know what to do. Not the same way as Abby, it knows what an emergency contact is, it just doesn't know what to do because it has no official identity. It doesn't technically exist, and it can't just walk into a human hospital and sign release forms or anything like that. It would definitely need someone else to go in, and it would sort of... travel with them, in a way I can't explain without spoilers, and that person would need to speak for it and essentially pretend to be it. It would be very worried, and very confused, and afterwards it will be very clingy because even if the issue was minor, you gave it quite the fight.

#cursed ambrosia ask #the gang's all here

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practically-an-x-man · 9 months ago

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Gazooks! Nyx is attempting to possess your OCs! They've been noticing strange things, like changes in mood, hair or eye color, seeing strange figures in the corners of their vision or hearing unintelligible whispers, and losing small amounts of time, before finding themselves in unusual places. What do they do?

Ooooooooh I like it! Very chilling, this will be fun >:)

Thanks for the ask!

Rae: Because of her phobia, she's always hypervigilant of anything she perceives to be her mind being invaded- and in this case, she's right. She notices almost immediately and throws up a mental shield, which suitably ejects Nyx from her mind, but ends up in a week-long panicked breakdown about having been possessed and nearly taken over.

Robin: At first, assumes that these could be late-stage effects from her traumatic brain injury, she mentions them to Peter and Hank but doesn't really pay as much mind. Her eye color is already a pale blue, that's not any different... but she notices her hair darkening right away, and Charles has been sensing something odd in the back of her mind. Thankfully it's caught before Nyx gets a particularly deep hold on her, though it takes Charles in Cerebro to generate enough psychic power to eject her.

Madison: Moodiness isn't new for her, but Alex definitely notices that something's off. And her hair and eyes are mirror-silver, so any change will be obvious almost immediately. Similar story to Robin overall - Charles uses Cerebro to kick Nyx to the curb - but Madison's guarded and distant for a while as she tries to process how violated the whole experience made her feel.

Ophelia: Assumes it's literally all caused by sleep deprivation. I mean, irritability? Minor hallucinations? Time loss and microsleeps? She's been here before. Time for a few days to recover before she grinds herself into the ground. Unfortunately, this assumption means she doesn't notice Nyx until a lot later, and now she's got a problem on her hands.

Gia: Oh buddy this is NOT helping her anxiety one bit. Like Rae, she's already hypervigilant enough to notice the changes immediately, but unlike Rae, she has no idea what to do about it and really just ends up spiralling. Hopefully her clover helps her somewhat, because this is not going to end well.

Jasper: Could sense Nyx's empathic signature nearby before she even tries to possess them, and (though it makes them feel like a complete lunatic at first) warns her that they know she's there. And this really isn't going to work if they know she's there, they'll just go to the witches and find some way to kick her out, so that's probably enough to convince her to find another victim.

Kestrel: Hm, how would possession work with a shapeshifter? The physical changes go largely unnoticed (Kestrel just assumes they've slipped on one of the little details and readjusts it back to what's familiar), but Warren notices the time loss and behavior changes and asks if they've been feeling alright. They both assume it's some sort of curse or possession from the last mission they were on, and go through a gauntlet of magical remedies and countercurses to try and evict Nyx from the premises.

Katherine: Look, the Egyptian gods have already claimed this one, and they do NOT intend to let her go that easily. Nyx had better not try to start some shit, because it may or may not end in her being eviscerated by the power of the sun. Katherine's probably distantly aware of the possession, but assumes it's another little quirk of her connection to the gods (most of them are respectful, but sometimes they get a little brazen, she's not surprised one of them is trying to show themself)

Quinn: She's gone through similar things during a few of her bad periods, so she assumes it's a delusion like she's had in the past. She'll start with just trying to sift through it and ignore it, but as it gets worse she'll contact Five, then might even check herself into a mental health ward as it gets even more severe. She ends up completely and utterly possessed by Nyx, since she didn't even realize that's what it was, but the real question is why Nyx picked her of all people for a host.

Eris: Notices right off the bat - they've been around for centuries, they know every little detail about themself and can instantly recognize when something changes - and immediately promises death to Nyx if this keeps up. On the one hand, Eris is terrifying when they're angry. On the other, they'll make an incredibly resilient host if Nyx can pull this off, and it's not like they can do much physical harm when she's already intangible...

Nikoletta: It's either the physical changes (since she looks very different from Nyx) or the time loss (since that's severe and concerning) that make her notice it, and she jumps into the shadow realm to try and kick Nyx to the curb. She's not sure whether that'll work, since she still doesn't know all the ins and outs of the shadow realm, but it's the best thing she can think of.

Jimmy: He's a ghost, how can he himself be possessed?

#my friends!!!#answered asks #my ocs #jasper wilson #ophelia octavius #madison douglas #oc quinn/aces #oc kestrel #rae mckinney #robin cassidy #oc katherine johnson #oc eris #nikoletta bordeaux #gia pantazis #jimmy luciano

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trashcankitty12 · 2 years ago

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Crown Prince Caspian Poole of Andros

Only Son and Eldest Child of Layla and Nabu Poole

Mr. Go With The Flow

-Caspian Poole’s the first born of Layla and Nabu, as well as their only son.

-Born October 17th, he’s a Libra by Earth Standards and an Elemental by the Magical Dimension’s. He’s fifteen when we meet him, turning sixteen on his next birthday.

-Caspian’s got a darker skin tone like his mother, has his father’s eyes, and his mother’s hair color. (And texture when he lets it grow some. He’s currently in a phase where he likes it being shaved because it makes him more “aerodynamic”.)

-(Or rather, that’s what he claims even though Zephyr swears there’s no correlation. His sister thinks he just refuses to admit that he finds longer hair too hot and hard to handle, but what does she know?)

-Caspian, like his mom, has some mer-person qualities when he has skin-to-skin contact with salt water for a certain amount of time. Or when he focuses on shifting. Granted, he doesn’t have a full tail or anything, but he does gain flipper-like fins on his feet and webbing between his fingers. Gills.

-He considers himself and the new generation of Poole/Wayne kids (which includes his cousins) as being extremely lucky. Growing up, he’d heard stories of how strict his grandparents had been on his parents, but with him and his cousins and his sister? They’re so cool and chill. (Though they do go back to being strict during ceremonies and galas, but that’s to be expected he guesses.)

-Caspian really loves hanging out with his Baba and Dadi. They were the ones who got him into meditation and learning to really listen to the world around him. They’re also the ones who get him the best comfort food when he’s upset about something.

-Between his mother and his grandpa Teredor, Caspian’s a pretty good sword-fighter. In fact, he’s sure if he cared a little more for the craft, he’d be at the top with Mark and Etta. But, it’s not his favorite pastime.

-No, his favorite is surfing. Or skateboarding. One of those two.

-Surfing is sentimental to him as it’s a major family pastime for him and his family, something they’re all into. And skateboarding is something he and a couple of the others are into. (Zephyr, Elliot, Riven and Musa’s son, and Mirta and Lucy’s child, and his cousins.)

-As a Tidese-Androsian, Caspian knows the ins and outs of boats. Sailing, rowing, canoeing; knows how to run a proper ship.

-(Okay, he doesn’t know everything yet… But he’s learning. After all, it’d be pretty bad if he doesn’t know how to operate on the water after growing up around it forever.)

-He’s the crowned-prince of Andros, something he’s okay with.

-Being a royal isn’t easy, true, and there’s so much pressure and expectations on him, but he sort of enjoys the challenge of it.

-He does love being the prince, he’s just not always a fan of the rules and all the different ‘manner displays’ he has to learn. (Can’t have any controversies, you know?)

-Caspian acts as sort of the ‘older brother’ of the group, even if Apollo and Artemis are older than he is. (And frankly, so is Musa’s daughter.)

-But because of his more laidback and calm demeanor, the others tend to come to him for advice or assistance.

-And thanks to his calm demeanor, he tends to easily claim leadership roles during times of crisis. (Although, if one were to use telepathy, they’d probably hear “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck, we’re fucked, we’re fucked” running through his head.)

-Yes, okay… Caspian has a really good “outer shell” for people to see. Mr. Calm and Collected. Mr. Ride It Out. Mr. It Is What It Is.

-But in reality, Caspian panics when things fall out of place or start going wrong. Not that anyone really notices… Except for those close to him.

-He’s trying to be better about that. He’s going to be a King one day. He has to get himself under control. (His parents are great at helping him with his anxieties in these situations, especially since they’ve had them too.)

-Just because he tends to be more ‘go with the flow’ doesn’t mean he won’t speak up when things aren’t right. His parents have instilled a strong sense of justice into this young man and while he’s willing to let a lot go, he does have limits.

-Caspian is bisexual, but he’s not a disaster bi. Somehow. Honestly, no one understands how he manages to be perfectly fine in front of his crushes or how he manages to speak in complete sentences around them, but he’s doing fine.

-Or rather he appears to be. It could be more of his facade.

-Who knows at this point?

-His best friend may be Musa’s son and Mark, but his best bro is Zephyr. He listens to her chatter away about her projects and she helps keep him calm. Also they enjoy having skateboard races. (And trying to outdo each other in video games, but that’s something Zephyr will forever beat him at.)

-Caspian is one of the more physically flexible guys, something he attributes to practicing yoga. Though a few of his friends think his mer-genes are somewhat responsible as well.

-He tends to eat healthier than the others do. Or rather, he prefers eating healthy. (Honestly, do his friends not know what goes in fast food? Or do they not care? And how could you possibly enjoy it?)

-That said, he has his secret loves too: cheese danishes, curly fries, raspberry milkshakes, those mozzarella stick things Mark and Nichole get from Earth.

-Caspian is currently training to get his tattoos, and so is his sister. There’s quite a few tasks involved in proving one's worthiness of the tattoos, but they’re putting in the work. (And are in a bit of a friendly competition to see who gets theirs first, a competition joined by their cousins.)

-He’s also working on getting himself a staff. Not all wizards have one, but his family has a huge ceremony where they gift the wizards in the family with their own special staff and he wants to be part of that.

-(By gift, they mean they worked for it. The staff’s are specialized to the wizard and are a testament to the wizard’s skills. Caspian’s got to earn it.)

-Like Willow, Caspian is taking classes at Coventry Academy. In fact, they’re dormates. (His room and Willow’s are connected by a shared living space. The other two rooms are taken by Crystal and Kota’s son and Mirta and Lucy’s child.)

-While he’s happy to know how to physically fight and handle his own, he wants to study magic more than just for attack/defense purposes. So, he chose Coventry over Red Fountain, something Apollo pouts about often.

-Currently, his favorite classes are Divination, Magical History, and Physical Education. His least favorite: Summoning.

-(Summoning is harder than it looks and it’s extremely draining, thank you.)

-He’s part of Coventry’s swim team and the magi-ball team.

-Caspian is also part of an exploration club and a skating club.

-Because of his royal status, Caspian is also subjected to many different diplomacy and political classes. (Not that he minds, per se, but he could really use more lenient teachers. The one he’s got currently is always on him about a paper or test prep.)

-Caspian knows he’s going to be the King of Andros one day; his only hope is that he’s going to be one of the great ones. One who really helps his people prosper and grow. (And maybe one who makes things just a little less formal? Please?)

#winx club #winx club next gen #winx club next gen oc #winx club oc #winx club nabu and layla #winx club and nabu and layla child #caspian poole #winx oc caspian #mr. go with the flow #the ocean's favorite wizard

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rainbows-fanfics · 1 year ago

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All'inzio (Chapter 15)

Summary: A soldier-in-training, Valerie hopes to join the Valencian Army to avenge her father’s death under the wing of General Rooke. But when she happens to catch the attention of Commander Kane, her plans take a different turn.

Human AU of the Armada from Pirate101, where Kane meets his Queen.

Pairing: Kane/Queen

–

Note: The title translates to “at the beginning”.

–

Valerie woke the next morning. The first thing she felt was a chill climbing on her back. She rose from the blankets and glanced behind her, only to see an empty space on her mattress. She frowned as her hand lingered over the sheets, rubbing through the folds thoughtfully. She didn't expect Kane to stay the morning, but she was hoping to wake beside him. She felt cold after they slept in close contact all night...

She sighed and brought herself out of bed. She was delighted with what happened last night. Not only had the Supreme Commander returned her feelings, but everything that happened after was...icing on the cake. She couldn't believe he felt the same way. It was almost like a dream, the more she thought of it. But what she experienced that evening - within the sheets of her bed in the ungodly hours of the night - was most definitely real.

She found her dress neatly folded on a chair. There wasn't much she had to pick up and found virtually no evidence left of last night. She went into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. She was a little tired. And a bit sore, in a few particular areas...

As she waited, something caught her eye. She was surprised to find a note sitting on her dining table. It read: 'Good luck today'.

----

Wearing a nice dress with her father's pearl necklace, she was impatient to get to the building. She wanted her lesson over with already so she could see Kane again...Everything before then felt like it was killing time. She met with her instructor at the door as usual. Aristide complimented her, but she brushed off his words. He noticed her impatience as she excused herself to get ready. His thoughts were suddenly swarmed with troublesome feelings.

"I'm ready."

She was in her bathing suit - still so stunning in his eyes - waiting patiently to begin. He looked at her thin frame more than he usually would and struggled to keep his focus. They began their time for the day. Her fear was nonexistent at this point - she swam freely with little trouble. Even if he was paid for another month's work of progress, he believed Valerie was at a great pace already.

Her practice for the day was over. He excused her to get changed and anxiously waited outside. She performed well today. Everything she did was with confidence, which he found attractive. He was proud of her as a teacher, but as a man, he admired her efforts a little more than professional. That brought up what he'd been dwelling on this morning. He took a seat to ponder on it further.

Aristide was unsure of asking his client out. His talk with the Supreme Commander should've assured him nothing would happen, and yet, he was unconvinced...He didn't know if there was a thing between them, but trying on his end would be an admirable effort regardless. It was better to make his move than to bite his tongue in wonder.

She soon emerged from the room. She was eager to leave, about to head straight for the door. He stopped her in time by jumping out from his seat. He smiled apologetically and brought his hands together. She seemed to be restless, judging by her inability to stand still at that moment. Almost as if she's got a date!

"You did wonderfully. I think you're becoming a good swimmer by this point! And to think, it was just my job to teach you..."

"Yes, I felt...inspired, today." She responded with a smile.

Her words encouraged him to carry on with confidence. "This month has been a delight with you. Our lessons are wonderful - they're different from the others I offer." The other women he worked with came to mind, but he focused on the one in front of him. "-I think you are a lovely woman. You are strong, confident, and kind. I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? To get to know each other better, perhaps?"

She realized what he was implying by the way he looked at her. The answer settled on her tongue - a firm 'no'. She might consider Aristide a friend past their teacher-mentor relationship, but she didn't want more than that. He was kind and somewhat attractive - no doubting that - but after what happened last night, she couldn't bring herself to make arrangements with other men. Not ones like these...

She ensured her refusal was polite. "Aristide, you are a wonderful man. You are an amazing teacher and I appreciate everything you do for me. I just do not want anything more than what we currently have."

His posture deflated, the smile on his face falling. "I see."

"If you want, I would be more than happy to--"

"-Don't worry about it. I had a feeling you would say so." At her confused look, he elaborated. "I assumed you and the Supreme Commander were already an item. He comes by so often to get you, and you two seem close. How happy you look while talking to him; I've seen his smile as well. The signs were obvious, looking back at it..."

She held a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Others thought her and Kane were already a couple? They were together quite often in public. She found it flattering hearing it come from someone else. Seeing the disappointment on Aristide's face made her feel guilty, but then she remembered who exactly was waiting for her beyond this door. She'd have to wrap this up quickly.

"Thank you for the lesson today. I hope this does not change anything?"

"No, no of course not. I apologize for keeping you - you seem to be in a rush. I won't stay in your way."

With that, he stepped aside. She gave him a thankful look before leaving through the door. She didn't even look back as it closed behind her. When she found the familiar colors of black and gold waiting at the end of the path, she skipped over. Kane had been speaking with someone on his device. He promptly ended his conversation once he saw her. That was when they made eye contact for the first time after last night. There was something different about the way her heart thumped when she saw his blue eyes.

"Did your lesson go well?" He asked. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Everything went fine."

"Bene." He pulled at his gloves, admiring her dress. "Are you hungry? I'd like to take you out for lunch."

This time, she was quick to accept such an invitation.

----

She was surprised to find them casually strolling into one of the higher-end restaurants in Florenza. Thankfully, she happened to be dressed for such an occasion. There were rich couples and families sitting at the tables, chattering away while clinking their glasses. Kane opened the door for her and she was surrounded by marble and beautiful glass windows. She only had a moment to observe it all before they were tended to by a server.

Either he made a reservation in advance or he didn't need one, because they were led to a table right away. Theirs happened to be outside. They had a beautiful view of the canals nearby. Valerie didn't have to say a thing as she sat down in the seat held for her. She faced Kane across a well-set table, with the view of boats and gondolas to their right, and groups of wealthy people to their left. After their glasses of water were poured, they were left alone.

"Saying this is beautiful would be an understatement," She told him.

He didn't respond right away. He shrugged off his coat and set it on the back of his chair. She saw what he usually wore under that uniform - which happened to be a red ensemble matching the color of his ascot. It had a golden trim with buttons, beautifully detailed like his uniform. She hadn't thought red would compliment him that well, but....he still looked attractive!

"I enjoy the food they have here. We're not here for anything grand."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Why are we here..?"

"I thought something special wouldn't hurt."

She toyed with him and placed a hand on her chest. "My, a first date, so soon?"

There was a hint of amusement in his eyes. She tore her gaze away to look at her menu. All of the classic Valencian dishes caught her eye. She decided to go with something light in the end, seeing as this was a lunch date. Kane had the same thing in mind when he ordered. When they waited for their food, there was a moment of quietness. She squirmed a little, deciding to address the thing that had been on her mind all morning.

"Kane, about last night - It was more than wonderful, and I wanted to thank you for giving me a pleasant evening."

She felt pathetic for putting it so timidly. He smiled, much to her surprise. "I had a good time as well. I apologize for leaving so soon - there was a lot I had to get done."

"I found the note you left."

"I didn't want it to seem like I left in a rush."

They passed more time by gazing at the water and talking about how beautiful of a day it was. Their conversation felt natural, and for her, it was hard to believe she was on her first date with a man in years. Prior to this moment, she thought such a thing would be quite a big deal. But as she shared insightful conversations with Kane, easily talking about their days and what they'd been up to, she felt anything but nervous.

Their food eventually arrived, disrupting their talk. Neither of them minded as the server set down their plates and politely excused himself. This was the quieter part of their time together. She worked on her serving before looking at Kane. He barely touched his plate in this time. Instead, he was intently staring at the tablecloth with his hands folded. There was something on his mind.

He shifted his frame as his gaze traveled the table, before eventually coming to her face. "It occured to me that I never formally asked if you'd like to go out with me."

She sat up straight. She would have accepted such an invitation a long time ago. He appeared somewhat nervous in this moment, his eyes having a hard time staying on her for long. She pretended to think about it, evoking a confused reaction on his end.

"I will, but on one condition." She leaned forward with a grin spread on her lips. "-You must show me your face."

He looked surprised. "My face?"

"The moment I see it, I will be your girlfriend."

He found the playful smile on her lips. He couldn't help chuckling. The proposition wouldn't hurt - it wasn't that big of a deal to him to keep his face concealed for very long. It was a small thing to ask in return for a relationship. If this was the price, he'd gladly pay it.

"I'll take my mask off, but only in private."

She brought her glass to her lips and giggled. She wasn't expecting a 'yes', but was more than thrilled that her little plan worked. "Of course..."

He was comfortable enough to eat. They got through the rest of their meal at a good rate, exchanging words and smiles. Just knowing that this was a date with him, and he had asked of her...she felt giddy inside, and had a terrible time trying not to show it. By the time they were finished and back on the streets, she was eager to be alone with him again.

----

When they were back in her apartment, Valerie was nervous. Her mind wandered during their walk, contemplating on her and the Supreme Commander's relationship. What else could she think about? They chatted a little in that time, but he seemed to be absorbed in his thoughts as well. Once they were alone, whatever was on their mind was promptly brushed away as the two of them got comfortable.

She turned to him and smiled confidently, waiting for what was promised to her. "Anytime you're ready to show me your face, go right on ahead."

He smirked at her request. "Dying to know what I look like?"

"No stalling."

He bowed his head and brought his fingers to the edge of his mask. He began to raise it from his face, the string holding it slowly unwrapping with the movement. She felt dazed as he did this - his features revealed at such a teasing pace. It was almost like he did this intentionally. Her jaw fell agape as his mask was entirely removed and held in his hands.

Before her, she found, was the face of a handsome man. One that would have belonged to a model, she thought. She could see the things she noticed much better now - his sunken cheekbones, his sharp jawline, and his curved chin. What stood out the most were his piercing blue eyes that watched her carefully as she stepped forward. He had a widow's peak at his hairline and she smiled at how adorable that was. She imagined he would have a few scars on his face - what with fighting in those wars - but everything about him seemed clean. She couldn't find an imperfection anywhere.

In awe, she placed her hand on his cheek. Her touch was warm on his skin. Her fingers trailed over his lips. He smiled uncertainly once she withdrew.

"Nothing special, is it?" He asked. She shook her head.

"No, it's everything. You are so....so attractive..."

Her hands grew shaky. Their close contact was making her breath run short and her heart beat rapidly. She looked down and reached for the mask in his hands. He allowed her to take it. She observed it and brought her thumbs along the beads. She got curious enough to flip it over. Her eyes traveled the inside until she noticed some handwriting at the bottom. She leaned forward to get a better look, and read the word aloud:

"Gaz...pacho?"

Kane noticed where she was looking and promptly took it back. She frowned feeling it out of her hands. "-Who's Gazpacho?"

"-Gazpaccio." He corrected. "He...is my father."

"Oh, right. You mentioned he made that mask."

He nodded before looking at it and setting it aside. She smiled seeing he didn't put it back on. She enjoyed her second gaze at his face. Of course he'd be hiding such beautiful looks under that mask...she hadn't expected anything else. She brought her hands along his jaw. It was nice to gaze in his eyes properly. Not that she didn't find some appeal in his mask - it was the most beautiful one she'd ever seen - but it was pleasing to see this man as he truly was.

She leaned forward and he took the message. They closed their eyes as they kissed. It was new to lay her palm on the side of his face without feeling something in the way. She whined when he pulled away. He was leading them to the couch so they could get comfortable. She sat close to him on the cushions - a habit that would form quickly, she was sure.

"I remember when my mother got to touch your face before I could." She reminisced as she caressed his cheek, laughing. "Then she tried getting under your mask."

"I recall she said my skin felt like satin."

"Oh, but it is. It's so soft-" She rubbed her fingers along his cheek. "-She was right about everything. You are striking, in every way possible..."

"You give me a lot of flattery." He commented, guiding her hand away. He held her face in his own hands. "You are just as attractive to me...your face is beautiful - your skin as warm as your smile; Not to mention those eyes of yours. I could dream about them all day."

Normally, she'd feel overwhelmed at such words - but right now, they felt genuine. She closed her eyes as his thumb went along her chin. He laid another kiss delicately on her lips. She enjoyed every second of the contact and looked at him dreamily as he pulled away. The moment her eyes left him, those thoughts came back. What she had been thinking about on their walk...

"Kane?" She said his name so quietly he leaned in to hear her better. "I was thinking of this, on our way here-" She motioned between them. "And I have so many questions. I like to think this changes little, but it's the opposite..."

"Is there something troubling you?"

"Would us dating change me joining your navy? I wouldn't want to leave you to serve. I know it's important, as it is my duty to protect Valencia, but...after everything we built-"

"-Yes, that is something I considered." He interrupted, holding his hands together in thought. "I hope you understand why I wouldn't want you risking your life overseas...especially when I know I can control that?"

"Am I going to be discharged?"

"Keeping you as my subordinate is only going to give us problems. I'd have to remove you from my system if we are hoping to make this serious."

She felt conflicted at this information. Her face underwent many expressions handling this news. "But what about being your 'promised soldier'..? All the potential I had? I feel as if it would be throwing it all away..."

He noticed her distress and cupped her chin, making her stare into his eyes. "Not at all. I initially thought you a soldier, but I want you for other things. I want you by my side, rather than below myself."

She looked at him in wonder. He continued:

"You still have potential. I'd be more than happy to teach you myself. I can offer any lesson you want - marksmanship, fencing, combat, sailing - I'm professionally trained in it all."

"-Lessons from you? That sounds like an honor..."

"And a better alternative than sending you away."

She frowned, her hand coming to the pearl necklace she was wearing. Her fingers felt their smooth surfaces in thought. "I dreamed of avenging my father through your navy. Abandoning that feels wrong..."

"I don't mean to make this seem like you're choosing between me or your dream. The fact of the matter is - I can still offer you what you want to do. We can fight pirates together after I teach you everything I know."

"You mean that..?"

"I told you how I worry they will eventually come to Valencia. We can work to eradicate them." He lowered his head. "It is your choice. You can either fight alongside me, or serve in my navy. I leave it entirely up to you."

She sat there to seriously think about it. She got a flashback to what happened on that boat. She nearly drowned herself before ever arriving at Florenza. Kane saved her then - but the memory left her humiliated. Was she even capable of the latter anymore? What he offered was a million times better than any training could be. The best part was - she could be together with him...by the side of the most powerful man in Valencia. One that undoubtedly caught her affections. That alone made the answer obvious.

"I would be honored to be trained by you."

"And it will be an honor to work with you." He grasped her hand in his own. "To begin a relationship with you is my greatest pleasure."

Her feelings were entirely mutual. She rested her head on his shoulder. She made her choice between him and Aristide, and she was happy with it. Even though this one cost her previous plans, there were many opportunities coming her way. Being involved with such a wealthy, strong, and admired man was merely the benefit of it all...

Kane brought her closer so she could lay on his chest. She played with his insignia in this time, enjoying the peaceful quietness that laid upon them for several minutes.

This is the decision she's made, and she knows it was the best one.

#pirate101 #p101 #pirate101 kane #pirate101 queen #kane x queen #fanfiction #all'inzio

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