#observe robins spots under her eyes the world would be a better place ��

[kavehater]

I support girls but NAH THIS IS REACHING “if you look carefully LIKE REALLY CAREFULLY 🤓☝️”

[steddieasitgoes]

@eddiemonth prompts for Oct. 3rd: School and a belated Oct. 2nd: Observant cw: mention of food read on ao3

Ms. Click’s first-period class isn’t the worst place Eddie can be — that spot is reserved for Ms. O’Donnell’s sixth-period Algebra class. And yet, he can still think of a million and one places he would rather be than sitting at his stupid desk in the middle of the room, like under the covers in his bed or smoking a joint while leafing through his latest Dungeons & Dragons campaign. 

Hell, if it wasn’t illegal and immediate grounds for expulsion, Eddie might just light up right here. Maybe a little weed will make the dates of Lincoln’s presidency finally stick in his damn head. At the very least, it might distract him enough from the dramatic sighs and pencil tapping his fellow classmate Robin Buckley is currently doing. Maybe she’s the one who needs a joint. 

He knows he should be listening to whatever Ms. Click is saying, but his ears are tuned in to Buckley’s pencil and the horrendous beat she’s tapping. Isn’t she in band? She should have better rhythm than this, he thinks. Having had enough, Eddie leans forward in his chair and taps Buckley on the shoulder. 

His feather-light touch startles her and she jumps, knee thunking against the underside of her desk. The pencil rolls off her desk when she lets go of it in favor of rubbing at her knee. 

“Sorry, Buckley, but that tapping was driving me insane,” Eddie says, whispering as best he can. 

“You could have just asked me to stop,” she snaps, bending down to retrieve the pencil. 

Eddie hums in agreement but doesn’t lean back in his seat. Instead, he stays hunched over, elbows hanging off the edge of his small desk. Head practically on Robin’s shoulder when she comes back up, he takes in her point-of-view of the classroom. It’s mostly the same as his. A view of Ms. Click with her back turned to them, scribbling out some timeline on the chalkboard. His classmates trying to copy it into their own notebooks. Except, there is one key difference in their seats because, from Buckley’s vantage point, he can see Steve Harrington in all his glory working his way through his breakfast bagel. 

Of course, Eddie thinks. That’s what has her heavily sighing like some old English housewife. 

“Buckley,” Eddie tsks. ��Don’t tell me you’ve fallen victim to Harrington's charm. I thought you were better than that.” 

Robin whirls around in her chair so fast the entire thing nearly topples over. If it weren’t for his own quick reflexes, she’d be overturned on the floor, and everyone would be laughing at her. Something Eddie absolutely does not want to happen. He may not know her, but he knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of their classmates’ laughter. And it’s definitely not a fun place to be. Ranks right above Ms. O’Donnell’s Algebra class. 

Her scowl is deep, the kind that would totally be shooting him with laser beams if that sort of thing existed in this world. It’s a good thing it doesn’t. But there’s something else at play behind those blue eyes of hers. A tension. It’s as if she’s debating how to respond to him. 

It’s interesting. 

Very interesting. 

“I don’t have a thing for Steve,” she sneers, barely above a whisper. Thankfully, Eddie has good hearing because he’s pretty sure no one else would even realize she’s talking. “I just…” she hesitates as she gazes over her shoulder in his direction. 

They’re not even on Steve’s radar. Hell, they could probably be screaming his name back and forth, and King Steve wouldn’t even pay them any mind. And it’s not like Steve’s diligently taking notes or anything. He’s more enthralled with his bagel than anything else. Ripping it into smaller bits before chewing on it with an open mouth. Crumbs strewn across his desk and the floor. Fingers covered in cream cheese and butter. 

Eddie wonders if he’ll ask to go to the bathroom to wash up when he’s done or if he’ll just brush the crumbs aside and wipe his hands on his jeans. Wonders what else Steve wipes away on his jeans when his hands are messy. Before the thought can spiral too out of control, Buckley’s talking again. 

“Why does he eat his bagel like that? He’s making a mess! There’s bagel crumbs everywhere!” she complains, turning her laser-beam scowl on Harrington’s profile. And then, even quieter than before, she says something Eddie knows he’s not meant to hear. “She’s covered in them, and she thinks it's cute. He’s not even looking at her. Why does she like him?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

It’s easy to put the pieces together after that. The erratic tapping, the frustrated sighs, the fight brewing in her eyes when he alluded to her liking Steve. The familiar, do I pretend or do I deny and possibly raise red flags argument he knows all too well. 

Shit, he thinks, she does need a joint. Maybe even more than him. 

“Hey,” he says, tapping her shoulder with a featherlight touch this time. She huffs and redirects her attention over her shoulder where Eddie sits. “I know you band kids pretend to be all high and mighty, but if you ever you know,” he trails off, mimes lighting a joint and inhaling it. “Come see me. Free of charge.” 

“Oh,” Robin says, surprised. A good kind of surprise this time; a smile tugging at her lips. “You know my parents were hippies, right? I’m pretty sure they have better pot than you do. No offense.” 

For a brief moment, Eddie forgets he’s sitting in Ms. Click’s first-period history class and laughs as if he’s sitting in the back of his van with his friends. The noise earns him a firm scolding from Ms. Click and a few curious stares from his peers, but he shakes them all off. Offers Ms. Click a half-assed apology before begging for her forgiveness with his hands clasped together. It’s only when she rolls her eyes and returns to the chalkboard does he tap Buckley on the shoulder one more time. 

“Well, shit, Buckley,” he chuckles, quieter this time. “Hippie pot, huh? You better bring me a sample.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Munson.” 

[the-atlas-sister]

The First Date (Damian Wayne X Reader)

So in this, you are the daughter of Green Arrow, Oliver Queen (NOT THE ARROW VERSION!! THE ANIMATED AND COMIC VERSION), and Black Canary, Dinah Lance. Also in this Dinah is dead and you have taken on the role of Black Canary

"Done!" Abby (moi!!!) exclaimed, tying the hair tie in my hair. "Aw, you look so good!" She backed up, admiring her work.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, smiling slightly. "I mean, I usually look beautiful but now I look even more beautiful," I joked.

"I know," Abby said, making me chuckle.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Six on the dot," Abby said, looking impressed. "Wow."

"It is Damian," I shrugged before my eyes widened. "I'm going on a date with Damian Wayne."

"Chill," y/b/f said, noticing my panic. "You asked him out, remember?"

"But-"

"Hey Damian," y/b/f said from the living room.

I looked at Abby, a panicked expression on my face. "You're okay," she whispered before leading me out of the bathroom.

Damian looked at me before mumbling something in Arabic. I was rusty when it came to other languages but I thought I caught "Beautiful..." which was enough to make my entire face turn red.

"Hey," I said, putting on a confident face. "You look good." My eyes scanned him. He wore a pair of nice black jeans and a matching skin-tight turtle-neck.

"You look..." His eyes scanned me.

"Gorgeous? Beautiful? Sexy?" I guessed, smirking at Damian blushed.

"Yes," Damian said, making me blush.

"Okay... well," Abby said, pushing me forward. "You two have fun," she said as I slipped on my shoes. "But not too much fun." She eyeballed Damian in a very best friend way. "And have her back by 10."

"And be safe!" Myloh added.

"Bye guys," I said, quickly ushering Damian out the door before closing it. "Sorry."

"I had a similar conversation with my brothers before I left," Damian said before cringing slightly. "Although it was a bit more-"

"I don't want to know," I said, shaking my head. "So, what do you have planned, Mr. Wayne?" I asked, walking down the apartment hallway.

"That's a surprise," Damian said with a stoic face.

"Not a huge fan of surprises," I said as we reached the elevator.

"You'll like this one," Damian stated matter-of-factly, pressing the button to the last level.

"Is that a fact?" I challenged as the elevator lowered.

"Yes," Damian stated, making me tilt my head. "I did some research and I'm sure you'll enjoy this."

"I don't know if that was meant to be sweet but it came off as creepy," I chuckled, leaning on the elevator wall.

"I just meant- I asked Abby what you're interested in," Damian explained, slowly going pink.

"What'd she say?" I asked, both worried and curious.

"She explained your love of movies, books, the stars, and food," Damian stated as the doors slid open.

"So, which did you choose?" I questioned, walking backward out of the elevator.

"Still a surprise," Damian smirked, following me.

"Mhm, game on Mr. Wayne," I said, turning around and walking out the apartment building's front doors. My eyes widened a bit as I saw Damian's motorcycle parked in front of the building. "Seriously?" I asked, looking at him as he stood next to me.

"Complaining?" he asked, looking at me sideways.

"Not as long as I get to drive," I chuckled, approaching the motorcycle.

"No," Damian said, standing next to me. He grabbed one of the helmets before handing me the second one.

"I know how," I frowned.

"No," Damian repeated before blinking. "Strange, that felt familiar." He then shook his head before getting on the bike. "Come on," he said looking at me. I rolled my eyes but climbed on the bike behind him. "Hold on," he said before putting on his helmet.

"You sure you don't want to drive as a way to get me to hold on to you?" I teased, resting my head on Damian's shoulder. Damian tensed up, making me chuckle. "I was kidding," I reassured him, putting on the helmet and grabbing his shoulders.

Damian cleared his throat. "I-I respect you, but for your own safety, I suggest you put your arms around my waist."

I blushed, wrapping my arms around his waist. Damian started the bike and drove out of his parking spot. My grip tightened as Damian sped up and we reached the highway. I grinned under the helmet as the adrenaline rushed through me due to the speed.

***

"You have to take me on your motorcycle more often," I said, letting out a breathy laugh and taking off my helmet.

"It's not really mine," Damian corrected, taking off his helmet and getting off the bike.

"But with Promythous-" I furrowed my brows, placing the helmet on the bike's seat.

"That was Robin's bike," Damian explained, leading me to the secret destination. He had parked a block away from the surprise place, just to keep the secrecy. "Damian Wayne does not have a motorcycle."

"Who's-" I continued, getting into pace next to Damian.

"My brother's," he shrugged with a small smug smile.

"You stole your brother's motorcycle?" I asked, laughing slightly.

"He told me, women love men with motorcycles," Damian said. "So I took that as an invitation for me to 'borrow' his." He smirked to himself at the thought. "Also, my other brother said I should. I'm not one to listen to him but, I did enjoy the idea of stealing Jason's bike." I smiled at his mini-rant. He seemed to notice. "I'm sorry for oversharing," he said, his face returning to it's neutral state.

"No, it's fine," I reassured him as we turned a corner. "It's nice hearing you talk more."

Damian blinked, obviously surprised by my answer. "What... would you like to talk about?" he asked slowly.

"You," I said. "I don't know much about you."

"O-oh," Damian stuttered, which was a rare sound. "I grew up with the League of Assassins."

"The group your father trained with?" I asked, interested to learn more. "Lead by Ra AlGugl?"

"My grandfather," Damian confirmed. "When my father was training, he met my mother. She- she tricked him into having... intercourse with her. That's how I was created. My father left before I was born and I was raised by my grandfather and mother. I was trained from birth to be the master assassin. I was supposed to be the best. There was no room for error."

"That doesn't sound like a fun childhood," I said.

"I suppose not," Damian hummed. "I loved my grandfather very much, or more admired him. He told me we would destroy the world and rebuild it in our own image." He scanned our surroundings, almost as if he was imagining how he could make each detail superior.

"That's still partly your mindset isn't it?" I asked, making Damian's gaze turn to me. "You see the world and people and just imagine how you can make them better." Damian blinked. "You even yourself believe you're better than everyone. You think you'll be a better Batman, a better hero."

"I don't-"

"I'm not critiquing, just observing," I stated. I blushed under Damian's intense stare. "I-I interrupted, I'm sorry. What about your mother?"

"She's dead," Damian said.

"Oh," I said.

"She wasn't a mother anyway," Damian continued. "Last I saw her she tried to create an adult 'perfect' clone of me and killed him."

"And I thought my dad was hardcore," I mumbled. "How did she...?"

"Helicopter crashed after trying to kill me, my father, and Grayson," Damian said almost casually.

My eyes widened. "You didn't deserve it," I said as we turned yet another corner. Damian turned to me. "You deserved a loving childhood. Not one with a group of assassins and Batman."

Damian's eyes softened. "I did get, what you call, a loving childhood with my father," he said. "He would set up movie nights. And my brothers are... overly loving, at least Grayson."

"He's Nightwing, right?" I asked, grinning a bit. Damian nodded. "I've met him. He has a bit of an older brother feel. And I'm sure he understands how hard it is to grow up with someone like Bruce."

"He has made it very clear he does," Damian scoffed. "As had Todd." I gave him a questioning look. "Red Hood."

"Oh, never met him," I mumbled.

We walked in comfortable silence for a minute.

"Here," Damian said, stopping in front of a small and quaint ice cream shop.

"Ice cream?" I asked, giving him a lopsided grin. "On Friday."

"You said you and your mother used to always had ice cream on Fridays," Damian said shyly.

I let out a small laugh. "You- this is really sweet," I said, a bit surprised. I remembered when I told him that detail about my childhood.

***Flashback***

"Tell me more about your mother," Damian said after a while of silence. "I assume she's where you got your power?"

"Yeah," I said quietly, looking up at the ceiling. "She was- awesome. She was the first Black Canary. Trained in thousands of martial art styles."

"You're telling me things I already know," Damian stated, making me look at him.

"She was a pretty cool mom," I chuckled, crossing my legs on the bed. "She couldn't cook though. That was something she wasn't taught. She'd always make time for us to have an ice cream night. Every Friday." I smiled at the memory. "Sometimes she'd come back from patrol at midnight then wake me up, just so we could still eat ice cream."

"Do you still do it?" Damian questioned, turning to face me fully. "With your father?"

"Not usually," I stated, trying not to sound bitter. "He's usually busy with the Justice League and his company."

"How did she die?" Damian asked softly, making me go stiff.

"I was thirteen," I recited. "She and my dad went to face Prometheus. It was just in the early stages of my training-at least for the Canary cry, so I wasn't allowed to go. I- I remember my dad calling the house. He told me he'd be home soon, but something happened to Mom. Apparently, Prometheus slit her throat. She didn't want anyone to find out her identity so she insisted that only Martian Manhunter or Batman operated on her."

"But it was too late," Damian assumed. I nodded.

"Dad and I hardly even spoke after that," I sighed. "It hit us both- hard, but after a year, we got through it. He's still protective though."

"What about your powers?"

"I don't use them," I stated. "My mom died before we got far in training."

"Why don't you continue?" Damian asked. "I assume the league would be open to help or your friends."

"I can't," I sighed. "My vocal cords are too old."

"That sounds like an excuse," Damian stated. "I was unaware you were a quitter, Queen."

***End of flashback***

"I just figured you'd enjoy it," Damian shrugged, turning his head to the side to hide his smile.

"I do," I chuckled. "Although this is very cliche."

"I have seen as such in many of the movies Grayson forced me to watch," Damian admitted.

"Thank you, Damian," I smiled before rushing towards the outside counter, Damian following. "Hello!" I said to the person at the counter.

"Hello," the person said. She was a pretty girl, seemingly teen age with flawless makeup. She looked like she belonged at Dutch Brothers.

"I would like two scoops of y/f/i.c (your favirote ice cream) in a cup, please," I said before turning to Damian.

"Awesome," the girl said. "And you?"

Damian glanced at me. "None for me," he answered.

"You're not going to get anything?" I asked.

"I've never had ice cream," Damian admitted.

"Never?" I asked in shock.

"No," Damian said, his face showing me he didn't understand the problem. I scanned his face before turning to the girl.

"He'll have one scoop of almond in a cup," I stated.

"Alright," the girl smiled. "Be right with you."

"I said I didn't want any," Damian said, looking at me.

"You've never had it and you can't just sit there watching me eat," I protested. "Plus, I think you'll like it."

"Why is that?" Damian challenged.

"I'm an observer of people and you seem like an almond guy," I summarized.

"Explain your thinking Miss Queen," Damian said.

"Well, almond is more of a traditional Arabic ice cream flavor (please correct me if I'm wrong, I got this off the internet), and knowing you, you prefer salty and savory over sweet," I explained before leaning back and spreading my hands like I was presenting an amazing discovery.

"We shall see," Damian just said.

"Here," the girl chimed in, interrupting our discussion. She handed us our ice cream.

"Thank you," I said. I placed my ice cream on the counter before pulling out my wallet, but Damian had already paid. "I was going to pay," I said as he handed me my ice cream.

"It's proper etiquette for the man to pay," Damian said, leading me away from the ice cream shop.

"But it's not required," I chuckled. "Besides, we're both the children of billionaires." Damian didn't answer as he led me to a small park beside the shop. "I'll just pay next time."

"Next time?" Damian asked, stopping in front of a blanket with a projector on it.

"Yeah," I smirked. "If I haven't scared you away."

"Not at all," Damian said, sitting on the blanket. He motioned for me to sit down and I obliged.

"Try the ice cream," I said excitedly. Damian glanced at the tan-colored ice cream before taking a scoop and eating it. I stared at him, waiting for some type of reaction. His eyes widened before he took another scoop. "I told you!" I smirked.

"Coincidence," Damian scoffed but took more bites.

"Mhm," I hummed, leaning back on my free hand. I looked around, noticing a screen across from the projector. "You set this up?"

"Pennyworth did," Damian corrected. "Although I choose the film."

"Oh really?" I asked. "What'd you choose?"

"y/f/a/m (your favirote animated movie)," Damian stated. My face lit up. "Abby told me it was your favorite. Although I don't understand how or why a film made for children would be your favorite."

"You've never seen it have you?" I asked. Damian shook his head. "Then you'll figure out that it's not really a children's film. And you'll discover the superior soundtrack."

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 17 - Flowers Break Like Promises

Chapter 1     Chapter 16

“What about Oliver?” Marinette suggested, looking up at him from her very cozy looking spot on the couch, surrounded by pillows and under a soft blanket.  Kismet was curled up on her lap purring away happily.

Dick scrunched up his nose considering just how brutal his murder at Bruce’s hands would be if he named his son after Oliver.  Probably wouldn’t be a murder, but Bruce would find other ways to punish him.  He was positive there were pictures he could show Marinette that Dick would never recover from.  “No, not Oliver.”

Marinette shrugged and clicked a few more links on her laptop.  “Arthur?” she offered instead.

Dick blinked a few times. Was she trolling him?  Was this her way of letting him know she knew about Nightwing and about the Justice League?  Any second now she was going to offer Barry or Diana.  He studied her closely.  She was completely relaxed, or at least as much as she could with her growing belly.  She looked up to him with innocent, guileless eyes.  He smiled at her.  “No.  How about Thomas John for the boy and Mary Sabine for the girl?” Dick offered instead, taking a seat next to her and scratching Kismet’s head.  Marinette wrinkled her nose at it.  Dick chuckled.  “Both our parents’ names included.”

“But what if we have more kids?  We’ve used up all the grandparent names in one go.  What do we do for the next one?  They don’t get a significant name?”

Dick grinned and gave her a suggestive look.  “Already thinking about more?”

Marinette rolled her eyes but leaned back to lay against him, resting her head on his shoulder.  “I thought it might be an option.  I always wanted more than two.”

Dick kissed her head. “Yeah, me too.  I thought three was a good number.  Maybe four.”

Marinette hummed in agreement and turned her head to nuzzle it into his jaw.  “Three or four sounds good to me.”

Dick squeezed her and looked back to the baby name website on her laptop.  “Okay, so which names do we use for these two?”

“I don’t think I want to name my daughter Mary.  No offense to your mother but it’s a bit too close to my name?  It feels wrong and confusing.” She added apologetically.

Dick nodded in agreement. She was right, that would get confusing, especially since he liked calling her Mari.  “How about middle names are grandparent names.  First names are names we like for different reasons,” he offered instead.

Marinette smiled up at him. “I like that.  Now we just need to figure out the first names.”  She quirked her lips to the side.  “What if you choose the boy’s first name and the girl’s middle name and I choose the girl’s first name and the boy’s middle name?”

Dick nodded and started thinking of names.  The girl was easy.  Mary would be a good middle name and wouldn’t get confused with Marinette.  Then again there was always his Mother’s middle name… But his son’s name was more difficult.  What would he want to call his son if he didn’t name him after his Dad or Bruce?  What were the important names to him?  He couldn’t use his brothers’ names.  He couldn’t use one of the other heroes’ names, he’d never live it down.  So, what other names were important to him? Zitka?  Cute, but hard pass.  Haley? No, he couldn’t do that. Robin?  He wasn’t going to put that out there so clearly.  But then again…

Marinette knew the boy’s middle name.  Thomas was her father’s name and Bruce’s father’s name.  It was the clear choice.  As much as she liked the idea of having a son named Tommy, it would have to be a middle name.  The girl’s name was more difficult because it was whatever name she liked.  So, what name did she like?  She couldn’t use a friend’s name and they already agreed not to use family names.  So it was a matter of what names she liked.  She knew what her father and Adrien would suggest, some pun.  Adrien would probably suggest Catherine so he could call her Kitty.  Pass. She could go with something significant to her like Coco or Vivienne or Vera or Carolina or Guo.  She loved flowers, she could go with Iris or Heather or Daisy.  Rose was out due to the friend rule.  But up until now, the most significant thing in her life had been being Ladybug, but she couldn’t name her daughter Tikki or Lucky.  But then again…

“I know what I want to do,” they both said at the same time and laughed.

“Well that was fast,” Dick observed with a smile.

“And for you,” Marinette agreed.  “Okay, let’s do the girl first.  I like the name Lucy.”

Dick repeated the name as if practicing how it sounded. “Lucy.  I like that.  Lucy Marie. French version of Mary.”

Marinette nodded. “Lucy Marie Grayson.” She turned to him with a smile.  “I love it.”

Dick nodded in agreement. “I do too.  Now the boy.  I like the name Robert.  Rob for short.”

Marinette repeated it. “Robert.  Rob.  Robert Thomas Grayson.  That’s a good name.”

Dick hugged her excitedly. “They both are.  I love the names.  And people said this would be hard.  They clearly don’t know what a good team we make.”  He gave her a quick kiss that turned into a longer kiss, which turned into an even longer kiss.  He pulled her into his lap to get her closer.  She started to pull off his shirt when his phone rang.  “I hate my phone,” he grumbled.  Marinette giggled and nodded in agreement.  “What?” he asked in an annoyed tone that he knew the person on the other side didn’t deserve.  “That is promising.  Okay, I’ll take a look tomorrow.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as he hung up.  “Tomorrow?”

He nodded.  “Tomorrow.”

“Will you make the appointment at 3?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  I’m really looking forward to it,” he assured her.  “I promise I won’t miss this one.  Now where were we?” he asked as he took off his shirt.

<><><><><> 

He was late.  He had tried to get out as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t.  There was always something more to investigate or to find.  Then he had to coordinate their next move, so he had to call into the other Titans to figure out logistics.  There was never a good time to get away.  And he had rushed out so quickly he hadn’t grabbed his phone. So here he was rushing to the hospital to try to maybe catch the tail end of Marinette’s ultrasound appointment and unable to let her know or check if she was still there.

He waited impatiently behind another woman as the secretary got her checked in and her insurance information.  His foot was tapping a beat at a speed that would impress Wally.  Finally, the woman stepped away to fill out her forms and Dick rushed up to the counter.  “Hi, I’m here for Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s appointment.”

The secretary raised an eyebrow.  “You must be the boyfriend,” the tone he used to say ‘boyfriend’ indicated to Dick just how badly he had screwed up.  Dick cringed at the thought.  “Her appointment got over about twenty minutes ago.  She already left.”

“Fuck,” Dick grumbled and dropped his head hard on the counter.

The secretary clicked a few buttons on his computer and wrote down an address on a piece of paper.  He slid it across to Dick.  “Good florist.  Really nice flowers and chocolates.”

Dick sighed and took the paper.  “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

The secretary shook his head. “Nothing to apologize to me for.”

Dick nodded in understanding. He couldn’t keep this up.  He knew he couldn’t.  Something had to give.  Marinette wasn’t going to keep forgiving him.  At some point she was going to reach her limit and snap at him.  And he would deserve it.  He wasn’t being fair to her and he knew that.  He wasn’t making the appointments he said he would make. He was leaving at the drop of a hat with little explanation.  

The only explanation he had offered was a lie.  He could alleviate a lot of this by just telling her the truth, telling her who he was, but he didn’t want to do that.  He didn’t want to drag her into this mess, especially with the Court as active as it was.  He didn’t want her worrying unnecessarily or worse yet, getting involved.  He wanted her and the babies as far away as possible from all of this.  The less they knew the better for them.

Dick stopped by the florist and a jeweler and their favorite take out place, making him even later getting home.  When he finally did, he heard the sound of laughter in the apartment.  He pushed his way in to find Marinette sitting on the couch with Jason.

“Hey, Dickhead.  Only,” he pretended to check his non-existent watch, “what? like three hours late.”  He gave Dick a pointed look.

“Yeah, I know.  What are you doing here?”

“You forgot this.  Roy thought you might want it back,” he said waving Dick’s phone in his hand.  “Couldn’t call you to let you know so he called me.  Thought I’d let Pixie Pop know and keep her company until you decided to show up again, hear about the ultrasound.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Dick growled.  He knew he screwed up.  He really, really didn’t need Jason reminding him or getting in his way of apologizing to Marinette, like he knew he needed to.  “I’m here now.”

“Again, only a little late. Mari and I were thinking about watching a movie.  Want to join us?” Jason offered with a snark in his voice.

“Jason…” Dick hissed.

“Jason,” Marinette gave him an exasperated look.

“Fine, whatever.  I’ll go.  Nice talking to you Pixie Pop.  You need anything, let me know.”  He glared at Dick on his way out the door.

Dick sighed and looked down before looking back up at Marinette with the most contrite expression she had ever seen.  “I am so sorry, Marinette.”

“Dick, this is the fourth time you’ve missed or been late for an appointment,” she answered quietly.

“I know,” he looked back to the floor, unable to match her sad gaze.

“If you can’t make them, that’s fine, Dick.  Most partners don’t.  But you keep telling me you can make it then don’t, with no warning.”

“I know,” he repeated, still looking to the floor.

“I asked them to wait for you because I was sure you were going to be there.  You said you wouldn’t miss this one.  I thought you would just be late again.  You promised.”

“I know I did.  I’m so sorry.  I really tried.  I couldn’t get away.  I didn’t want to let you down and I didn’t want to miss seeing my babies.”  

Marinette watched him as he spoke.  His entire body spoke to his remorse, but then again it always did.  He was always sorry when he missed an appointment or a date, when he was late, but then he always did it again.  She sighed and looked down.  She didn’t know what to make of it or how to respond.  She was starting to feel unimportant to him.

“I got these for you. I know they don’t make up for missing yet another appointment after I promised not to, but I thought they might make you happier.”  He held out the flowers for her.  

She took them with a mirthless smile.  “Thanks.”

“And I thought you might be hungry so I got us dinner.  I would have asked what you were in the mood for but,” he motioned toward his phone on the coffee table.  He set the bags on the counter.

“Thanks,” she repeated.

Dick let out a frustrated breath.  He knew he screwed up and didn’t know how to fix it.  The problem was what he already did and he couldn’t change that.  “Marinette, I’m so sorry.  I know I screwed up.  I know that.  I’m going to do everything I can to not repeat it.  I swear to you.  I don’t want to miss any of this.  I don’t want to disappoint you.  I don’t want you to think you can’t trust me.  I’m going to get a calendar and put it right on the refrigerator so I can’t possibly miss it and put every appointment and date on there.”  He took her hands in his and stared in her eyes, “I bought this on my way home to show you how much you mean to me.  How sorry I am.”  He pulled a box out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Marinette gave him an uncertain look but took the box.  She opened it with a gasp.  She took the necklace out of the box to examine it.  “Dick it’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you and not enough, I know, but I thought it would look good on you.”

Marinette shook her head and put the necklace back in the box.  “Dick, I don’t need flowers and jewelry.  I need you.  I need to know you’re in this with me, that I matter or lacking that, that at least the babies matter.  I need you to be there when you say you will.”

Dick’s eyes widened at her words.  His heart clenched.  She could not possibly think he wasn’t completely committed to this, to them. “Mari, do you… Mari, you and the twins are the most important things in the world to me.”  He stared at her with an intensity that made her believe him, or at least believe that he believed his words.  “You, this family we are creating, is the most important thing to me. I’ll do anything I have to in order to protect you three.”

Marinette immediately froze and stared at Dick wide eyed.  Her breathing picked up.  She hated those words.  She hated what they excused.  “Dick, what are you protecting us from?  What are you doing?  Is there something I need to know?”

“No,” he answered quickly, a little too quickly to be true.  His voice taking on a soothing tone.  “I just meant you are important to me, the most important thing.” He pulled her into a tight hug.  “Please never doubt that.”

Marinette nodded into his chest.  “Okay. I believe you.”

She didn’t sound entirely sure of her answer, but Dick wasn’t going to question it, he was just going to give her every reason possible to mean it.  “Can you tell me what I missed while I was being an asshole?”

Marinette giggled lightly, still strained but at least it was a move in the right direction, and grabbed two plates.  “Yeah, I can do that.”

Note: For those who don’t follow DC, the teams would frequently call the Robins, including Dick, ‘Rob’ for short.

Chapter 18

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[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.15}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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When the door fell closed again and Robin was left standing in the hallway by herself, in her pajamas, she sighed to herself. What a way to start a birthday… But then again, a part of her (an unsurprisingly large one) was also quite excited to have a very good reason to go find Snape once more. Not that she planned on staying longer than necessary, but the prospect of seeing him at all brought a smile to her lips and thus she started making her way towards the office. Still in her pajamas, much to her discontent. Not that she minded Snape seeing her in flannels and her Queen shirt at this point, he'd had that pleasure far too often already to pay mind to it by now, and it was rather the act of walking through the castle in her pajamas that she wasn't too fond of. But it was in the middle of the night, which made it unlikely that anyone would even see her at all. Thus she made her way out of the common room and through the dark hallways until she arrived in front of the office, where she unlocked the door only to find the room behind it dark and empty. Odd… didn't he still have those essays to grade for Monday? After checking the classroom as well and finding it in the same state, she went to the lab next, but it also proved to be vacant. He can't seriously have chosen this one instance to actually listen to her suggestion of going to bed early, can he? Insufferable idiot… but it wasn't his fault that she was trying to save his arse from some pathetic prank.

Robin groaned under her breath, putting her head into her neck for a moment before she made her way back down the hallway and towards where she believed his private chambers to be. It honestly wasn't too difficult a task to find the right place once she actually tried to, and before long she found herself in a hallway she had never been in before. It literally only had one single door going off to the side, and that made matters rather easy for her. As she stood there, trying to decide if she should knock or speak, she couldn't help wondering what the professors' rooms looked like in the castle in general, and Snape's room in particular. Certainly it was more spacious, and probably a lot more comfortable than the dorms as well. Would it have the same dusty and gloomy aesthetic as his house back in England? But then again, he spent way more time up here, he had said so himself… so his rooms here might just as well look entirely different.

Shaking her head to herself to put an end to her useless string of thoughts, she finally decided to knock. Three times, certain, and firmly as always. Generic as it could be. It took a few seconds but then she could hear movement, and finally the door was ripped open with a force that had her taking a step backwards instinctively. As soon as his dark eyes fell onto Robin however, the scowl on his face was gone in an instant and his entire demeanour changed from sheer furor and annoyance to question and concern.

"Robin! What-..." He started in mild surprise, but cut himself off after a second as he took in her appearance, then glimpsed down either side of the hallway, and finally just pulled her into the room before shutting the door behind them again.

Of course Robin's heart wouldn't miss the opportunity to start racing again, and for a moment she allowed herself to inspect the room she now found herself in. It was similar to his house, and yet entirely different in a way. First her eyes were drawn to a fireplace with a sofa in front of it, as it was the brightest spot in the room, lit up and tinted in a faint orange glow. The walls around it were lined with shelves, filled with books and quite a few other things actually, which she didn't have the time to inspect right now. But there was a small table with two chairs along one of those walls, hiding some of the books and objects from her vision, and she allowed her eyes to linger there for a moment only, before the next curiosity caught her attention. On two walls there were surprisingly large windows for a room in the dungeons, which could only mean that they must be in one of the corners of the castle that were facing the cliffside instead of the black lake… There was no water behind the glass, after all, unlike the common room on the other side of the dungeons. Robin frowned for a second as she thought; she didn't know a single other room down here with a windowed corner. Obviously being the only professor who lived in the dungeons had its perks; he got the very best room of them all. Honestly, she wouldn't even be surprised if he had the nicest room of all the professors. So her eyes wandered on, over the large desk which was even more meticulously organised than the one in the office, and over the wall of ceiling-high shelves that separated the room and shielded off the far right corner. Her gaze fell onto a four-poster bed that looked much like the students' ones, but about double the size, with the softest looking duvet she had ever seen, and dark green sheets that seemed almost black in the candlelight… she quickly looked away before she had the time to blush. Geez, it was just a bloody piece of furniture; get a grip, idiot! As she averted her eyes, she also saw a closed door other than the one to the hallway, and she simply assumed that it would lead to a private bathroom. Finally when she had roughly taken everything in, her eyes returned to Snape only to find him observing her in obvious amusement already.

"Are you done with the inspection?" He asked with one raised eyebrow, and now Robin did feel the heat creeping up her neck after all. Thank god it was quite dimly lit in here.

"Not nearly. But that will have to wait until a later point in time." She replied honestly, despite being called out for her undeniable curiosity.

"What brings you here then? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine… I thought you would still be in the office, to be honest. I didn't think you would actually take my advice about getting some sleep."

"I do take advice, occasionally, but only when nobody can tell that I do." He replied almost easily, and Robin had to smile in return. "But I would still feel a lot better if I knew what brings you here."

"It's nothing of any gravity, really… But it couldn't wait until morning."

"Building suspense as always, are we?" He quipped, and motioned to the sofa, before sitting down himself. Robin followed the example, and crossed her legs beneath her like she always did. For some reason, she felt no less comfortable being here now than she was in the lab or the office. All three rooms were very much Snape, in their neatness and calm and familiarity, and perhaps that was the reason why she loved either of them so much.

"Yes, no suspense, I'm sorry." She said as she shook her head to herself again, and finally started explaining. "I'm here because tomorrow morning some kids want to put salt into your coffee."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Snape started laughing, actually laughing, and Robin didn't know if she should laugh too, feel offended, or stare in awe. Either would have been an appropriate reaction, and since her brain couldn't settle for one, she did all three at once, which must've looked odd enough for him to stop laughing at last. Instead, he looked at her with a small smile now, which Robin still couldn't really put much meaning to. Why was this so amusing to him? He hated these things, all those imbeciles and their childish jokes… usually, at least.

"I don't understand what's funny about it." She decided to voice her thoughts at last. "I spent an hour being mad about it and trying to find a way to prevent it from happening, and you just… laugh?"

"I can see how that seems unreasonable, yes." He replied, and his amusement now toned down a bit. "Believe me, I wasn't laughing at you. Neither about the issue itself."

"Then what's so funny?"

"For one, I'm simply relieved that you are only here about a practical joke, and not about another situation that might end with you being hurt. Then of course there is the absurdity of the entire situation… I hadn't imagined that it would be salt in my coffee that would bring you to my room for the first time."

"But you did imagine what exactly would?" She quirked an eyebrow at him with a smirk, deciding that humour would be a better way to deal with his words than turning into a flustered mess again would be. He probably hadn't meant anything by it in the first place. But still, for a moment, she was sure to see an actual blush on his cheeks for once, a faintest tint of crimson, but it might as well have been the light of the candles, a mere shadow. It made her heart skip a beat nonetheless.

"Tell me more about that practical joke." He said a moment later, not even trying to hide the fact that he wasn't answering her question. "How did you come to know of it?"

Robin sighed, and did them both the favour of ignoring the previous conversation indeed. "I don't know much… Some sixth year by the name of Parker planned it with his friends. They're going to put salt into all the drinks for the head table in general, and obviously everyone finds it hilarious. Cas heard from Simon, and she told Jorien and me about it just an hour ago. But no matter how stupid of a predicament that puts me into, I couldn't let it happen without telling you. To save your morning, at least."

"I imagine you wouldn't want me to put an end to it then, before the disaster ensues… That would certainly reveal your involvement."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't. I know it's probably a stupid situation for you too, to know and not tell your-..."

"I don't particularly care, actually." He shrugged, with an almost humoured expression once again. "I will certainly undo the damage before enjoying my own coffee, but my colleagues' fates are their own. And I wouldn't put your relationship with your roommates at risk over something as imbecile as this."

"Thank you! Really, I appreciate it. But I have another favor to ask of you, one that's not entirely my own." Robin replied with an apologetic expression. "Can you please tell McGonagall about it too, before breakfast? And ask her not to spoil it either? I know, that's going to be incredibly hard, but it is really important to me."

"I certainly will tell her if you'd like me to. However I am curious to know why your mixed sentiments for her seem to have changed enough to warrant such concern about her now."

"They haven't changed at all… It's about Jorien. She wants McGonagall spared, but can't reveal it as her own intention for various reasons, so I told her I would do what I can."

"And why don't you simply tell her yourself like you are telling me now?"

"Well, I don't think McGonagall would've been happy to find me in front of her door at this time of night." Robin said with a humoured smile, then had to snort. "Especially not in my pajamas."

"Indeed, I don't think she's particularly fond of Queen." He mused, and Robin had to laugh even more at his tone. "If your apparel is the problem, you could have warned both her and me in the morning. Not that I would dare to complain, but why did you choose to do it now instead?"

"Finding you in the morning was my plan, originally, but I was made aware that I won't be able to. I was just about to go to sleep actually, hence the pajamas, when Jorien told me that I wouldn't get a minute to myself before breakfast because of some plans they have made for my birthday, and-..."

"What time is it?" He asked and his voice was suddenly rid of every humour at all, as was his face.

"Eh… around one thirty at night, I think? Perhaps two already?" Robin frowned at him, in confusion about the sudden question and abrupt change in his demeanor. "Why? Is something wrong? I mean, I know I probably shouldn't be here at this time of night and all that, but-..."

"Then it is your birthday already…" The edge was gone from his tone immediately, leaving only a quiet statement with a tinge of sadness.

"Yeah, it is. What's wrong with that?" She asked in return, her expression a mirror of his own right until he got up from the couch and made for the other side of the room without a word. Robin's heart squeezed together for a second, then she jumped up as well, out of sheer nervousness, but stayed standing between the sofa and the fireplace, feeling lost as her eyes followed him through the room. Had she done something wrong? Or said the wrong thing, perhaps?

Snape merely picked what looked like a piece of paper out of a stack of documents on his desk, then returned to Robin without any ado. Her eyes didn't leave him once, but only met his at last when he stood in front of her again. All the small tells of emotion on his face showed guilt, a hint of annoyance perhaps, both directed entirely at himself as it seemed.

"I tend to forget about time and such trifles when I am in your company. I apologise for the delay." He said after a few seconds, then held out the paper to Robin, an envelope that once again had his own name written on it. "Happy birthday, Robin."

The nervousness that had churned her guts seconds before was replaced by a soaring wave of warm adoration with a start, at both his words and the fact that all he had been upset about was forgetting to congratulate her. If he wanted it true or not, that was incredibly sweet. In Robin's eyes at least. With a smile she yet again had to tone down a little, she took the envelope from him, but instead of opening it right away, she merely held his gaze.

"Thank you. And don't worry, time is entirely irrelevant to me; I am happy that you remembered at all." She said sincerely, still in a fight with herself to not reveal too much of her own adoration. "If it wasn't for the entire 'celebrating into the day' thing, I probably would've only remembered that it's my birthday tomorrow morning."

"You will have to tell me more about what your roommates have put you through, but first I would like you to open that envelope. I meant to give it to you at the end of the day, but seeing as you are here right now, the beginning of the day will be just fine as well."

"Alright…" Robin said, and she couldn't help her curiosity for much longer anyway. Thus she turned the letter in her hands, inspecting the already broken seal with a smile, a frown and a huff. "The letter is from the ministry…"

"Obviously."

She rolled her eyes with a smile, but then finally tugged out the two sheets of paper from the envelope, and unfolded the first. For a minute, she read over the letter that was indeed addressed to Snape, and almost as expected, she didn't understand a word of it. It was signed with a name she had never heard before, but the subtitle said that he was representing the department of admissions. A title as generic as the name itself. Other than that, the letter mainly stated that Snape's request had been accepted and processed thanks to the aforementioned reasons (which unfortunately weren't stated, but surely would've given Robin a hint about what this entire thing was about), and that the ministry would keep an eye on the issue nonetheless. After reading it twice and being left no wiser, Robin took a look at the second page.

To her great surprise, this one had her own name on it, and it looked a lot more like the official document she had received from the ministry after successfully completing the apparition class last term. Her frown deepened as she scanned every word and number on the form that looked more like a license almost, if the standardised look of it was anything to go by… it certainly would explain why the letter came from the department of admissions. But other than her name, a few numbers and the current date, the twentieth, she didn't get too much information from it either. Entirely confused now, she looked back up at Snape who had carefully observed her while she had been reading.

"I would love to tell you I'm happy about the gift, but I have absolutely no idea what any of this is about. I don't even know if it's a gift or a warning or a death sentence." She started with a helpless chuckle, sounding almost as lost as she felt. "Perhaps we could skip the part where you roll your eyes and make me guess for once, for the sake or my birthday. Please?"

"It's not precisely a gift in common terms." He explained, and thereby complied with her request without mention. Robin didn't fail to notice though how mildly uncomfortable he looked, and she wondered if it was about the subject itself, or the mere fact that he was finally admitting to giving her something like a gift at least. "It is a solution to a problem you have. Or rather one that you had, until now."

"Who's the one building suspense now?" Robin smirked at him, to which he merely let out a huff that was supposed to cover up his own not-smirk. It didn't work, and he probably knew, so he went on to explain.

"I do realise that I had no right to solve this problem for you, and I also know that you never made a problem of it in the first place." He said, which made matters no less mysterious at all. "But I know that it has been burdening you for a while now, and I had to put an end to it. Try to, at least. So what I did was to write to the ministry and request for you to be given a certain and admittedly quite rare professional authorisation that allows you to handle certain substances that are subject to permission."

"I… which… what?"

"Perhaps we should approach the matter from a different perspective that is less… political. You obviously are aware that the objects we have gathered over the summer, the subjects of the theories in your handbook, all share one essential attribute: they are rare, some even extremely rare, and therefore very valuable. Yes?"

"Yes."

"And you see how that correlates to the horrendously high prices one has to pay for them in any shop that sells ingredients for potions."

"...yes?"

"Now, the reason why these objects are more often sold on the black market than in any reputable establishment is quite simple. The vast majority of rare objects and ingredients, and thereby almost all of the ones in your handbook, are subject to permission, which means that without a permit from the ministry, you aren't allowed to sell them. This leads to the problem that most shops are generally short of these ingredients, seeing as the ministry rarely gives out such a permit, which in return makes the ingredients even more expensive. These issues can be evaded by selling on the black market, which however almost always results in selling under value to sell at all."

"I understand. But why doesn't the ministry want to give more people such a permit? Wouldn't that make things a lot easier?" Robin frowned, and she felt like the biggest idiot ever, with a large knot in her brain. She knew she was missing something very obvious, but she just couldn't tell what it was.

"Imagine what would happen if every idiot was going after these ingredients for the mere sake of selling them. Not only would most of them die before they even reach their goal, but there would be thousands of people roaming through both worlds and destroying everything in their wake for the mere sake of making money off these objects. The ministry can't risk that, and therefore they are very selective about those who they grant this permit to. They wouldn't give it to me when I tried a few years ago." Snape said, then motioned to the papers still clutched in Robin's hands. "But they gave it to you. People have known your name ever since the first conference you attended; important people who have enough influence to see to it that my request was accepted."

"But… what… I…" Her brain was completely out of it for a moment, until she gave herself a mental slap. "I only research rare ingredients because I love doing it, and I gather them for you and me to work with… But I've never thought about selling them before."

"I know. Your passion for the work we do, the work you do, will always be your highest priority, but that doesn't contradict selling what you don't need for yourself." He stated, then sighed while the subtle discomfort returned to his expression. "Even a mere handful of the wraiths' moss from last year's excursion would suffice to make a small fortune. I know you have been concerned about how to make a living without your parents' support for a while now. This is the solution. A possible one, at least."

For a moment then, the weirdest thing happened; Robin's mind was entirely blank. A mere white noise of too much to process, too many thoughts tumbling over one another while each was too briefly existent to be grasped. So she just stood there, papers still clutched in her hands, and stared at Snape with wide eyes and parted lips. Frozen in space and time.

"Breathe." He reminded her then, with an expression so uncertain it seemed almost uncharacteristic, and Robin did breathe indeed. Once, twice, thrice… then her mind exploded into a colourful variety of emotions, and she finally snapped out of her freeze only to throw her arms around Snape an instant later, hugging him as tightly as if her life depended on it. If he wanted it or not. He didn't have a say in this, not right now.

"Thank you…" Robin breathed as soon as she wasn't entirely choked up anymore, and she couldn't even bring herself to care that the tears that were running down her cheeks now were drenching his linen shirt. "Thank you thank you thank you."

His arms wound around her in return almost instinctively, pulling her closer and keeping her steady as she stood on her tiptoes. But when he spoke up, his voice was quiet, sad almost. "What did I do wrong this time?"

"What? You did nothing wrong!"

"But you are crying, which usually is a direct result of whatever matter I have screwed up this time."

"I'm happy, you dunderhead!" Robin couldn't help laughing through her tears, and her arms around him tightened even more. He really was no better at closer human interactions than she was, and it was relieving to see sometimes. "Happy, and overwhelmed. Positively! This is so much more than just a birthday present to me… You really did save my butt yet again."

"Nonsense… I did nothing more than to write a letter to the right person, asking the right questions. It hardly is a gift at all. I didn't even have to pay for it." He replied in tangible defensiveness to being thanked, but Robin wouldn't let him get away with it this time.

"Didn't you tell me two or three years ago that caring for someone extends beyond the material?" She asked while the tears slowly dried out, leaving her voice muffled by his shoulder rather than emotion, and finally the overwhelmed feeling made way for sheer happiness. "This is the best possible example of it. It might only look like a piece of paper, but it's so much more to me. It shows that you know me, know me so well that you don't even have to ask to know what's on my mind. It means that you willingly dealt with people you despise, because I know just how much you hate ministry officials, and writing to them in a nice enough way to get them to do something for you can't have been easy. And foremost, the fact that you didn't just give me a gift, but actually thought of a bloody brilliant solution to an incredibly important problem for me tells me just how much you actually care. If you want to admit it or not."

"You haven't the slightest idea just how much I actually care." He replied under his breath, and it sent a deep shiver through Robin, one which obviously was noticeable enough for him to follow it up by lightly tracing up and down her spine with his fingers. Bloody hell, she could've died right on the spot from the sheer emotional intensity of this alone.

"You're getting better at showing me." She finally made herself reply, in a voice way too breathy to be anywhere near appropriate, but it didn't matter in that moment. Not when her mind had enough trouble keeping her from doing something incredibly stupid.

"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?" He spoke up a few seconds later, and his hand stilled on her back, splayed out so that his fingertips brushed her sides.

"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore." The question he did ask then, however, she had not seen coming at all.

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[eirist]

A Taste of Summer II

WORKING IT OUT 

One-shot #: 2

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Teasing again?)

Note: Entry for ZoNami Week 2020 @zonamievents. Day 2: Workout. I know it’s late. I’m sorry! And if you squint, you’ll see ‘workout’ there, promise.

Summary:  “Your dainty hands are much better for map making anyway.”

Brown eyes slanted dangerously, the heat blazing behind them almost tangible as she peered down the lawn of the Thousand Sunny from the upper deck.

She was pissed. Scratch that. She is still pissed.

How in the world was he able to do that? Act so nonchalantly, as if the incident in the lake a few days ago did not happen.

Nami huffed. Blowing at her bangs exasperatedly she leaned against the white, wooden railing to observe their idiot swordsman as he went over his daily workout routine on the grassy deck.

Instead of holed up in the nest. She thought irascibly as she watched him do a repetition of arm curls with those stupid dumbbells of his.

As dumb as its owner.

Her hands fisted tightly. Argh! She was so incensed at him right now that she wanted to throw one of her sandals at that moronic green head of his just to get some sort of satisfaction.

She was sooo close to siccing a chock-full of thunder balls Zeus at him.

He has to be asexual! That must be it!

She mumbled an expletive under her breath. She honestly thought he’d make a grab for her when they encountered each other in the lake… given the way he was looking at her like he wanted to take her right there and then.

That was why she had stood her ground and stared right back at him, daring him to make his move.

Because she would’ve let him.

Then Zoro’s expression suddenly shifted to a blank one. He merely stared at her for another second or two before showing her his back. 

But not before irritably telling her that if she wants to get out of the lake now, then she better do it fast because SHE was disturbing HIM?!

ASS!

She was so shock at the sudden turn of events that she wasn’t able to come up with any retort as her face colored in combination of embarrassment and fury.

Grrrr…. relieving all that gets her work up again.

What the hell was that all about? She cannot ignore the way he had looked at her. You don’t look at someone like that without feeling anything!

ANYTHING!

Besides, she had known Zoro for so long that she is actually aware that he may appear calm and indifferent most of the times, but some of his expressions were damn too easy to read…

Especially when it comes to emotions that he has no grasp on.

Something is there. And she’ll be damned if it wasn’t like what she thinks so.

Nami straightened up… just as Zoro put the weights down to peel off the sweaty white tank top he was wearing before moving to do some push-ups.

She bit her lip.

He's really delectable. That jerk! 

“Nami-san!!”

She turned abruptly at the sound of their chef’s voice. Nami looked around only to realize that Sanji was calling her from the hatch of the galley.

She immediately moved away from her position, lest Zoro realized that she was watching him.

“Hai, Sanji-kun?” Nami peered from the open hatch leading to the galley below.

The blond immediately went hyperactive. “Nami-swaan! I prepared a special drink for you and Robin-chwan! Perfect for beating this heat. Do you want me to bring it up there?”

“Uh no,” she smiled. “I’m coming down.”

“Here let me catch you in my arms.” Sanji offered as hearts magically burst out of his body.

“No.”

Tch. If only Zoro was this easy.

But that wouldn’t be fun nor interesting right?

 She gestured at the cook that she will go down now and actually let him assist her, with a sugary sweet threat that if his hands slipped somewhere it weren’t supposed to go, she’ll be cashing his bounty on the next island.

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

Nami clicked her tongue as she stood on the lawn deck, glaring at the dumbbells carelessly left there for anyone to trip over.

After that refreshing drink from Sanji, she decided to invite Robin for a dip in the inflatable pool that Franky had set up after they anchored somewhere in the middle of the sea.

She had change into her newest blue green two-piece swimsuit and had thrown in a loose t-shirt she wasn’t even sure was hers (yet she found it in her closet). It probably belongs to one of the boys and was wrongfully mixed in the women’s clothes pile given its size, as it almost swallowed her whole slim figure.

She tied it in a knot on her waist to make it more… presentable and was about to make her way down the dock system when she nearly tripped on Zoro’s exercise equipment.

Seriously, why is he such a slob? And where was he?

And why in the freaking world does she even like him?

She’ll charge him for this. Plus that incident in the lake. And for pissing her off. And for pissing her off again today, thrice. And for later as well. Because she knows he’ll do something to make her set off again.

He’ll be a poor man once she’s finished with him.

She bent down to pick it up with a weary sigh.

Her hand had closed around the metal grip to lift it up and place it somewhere else.

Nami’s eyes widened. The hell?

She stared at the dumbbells. Why the fuck was it so heavy?!

She recalled watching Zoro earlier… easily, almost boredly, lifting it as if it weight next to nothing…

She tried to lift it again, but it won’t budge.

“Don’t,” a voice said behind her. “You’ll just hurt yourself.” Zoro said as he took a step closer to her.

Nami, still grasping the dumbbell turned and glared at him. “Why is it so heavy?”

Zoro raised an eyebrow at her. “If it’s lighter then what’s the use?”

“And why did you even left them here where anyone can trip on it?”

He bent down as well, hand closing around the handle just beside hers. Nami tilted her head towards him and tried to force down the blush that threatened to appear on her cheeks.

He was close. Close enough that her nose was almost touching his face.

If she moves a little more closely…

“Here,” she thought she heard him say, as the dumbbell that she was still grasping was lifted effortlessly.

“Huh?”

Zoro looked amused as she blinked, looking at the equipment in her hand in an astounded manner. He was still gripping it as well and then he chuckled. “You’ll just end up spraining your wrist if you try to lift this. Your dainty hands are much better for map making anyway.”

Nami almost short-circuited when she thought he said… love making.

She just stared at him… her skin tingling as she realized that their proximity now…

Was lethal. Dangerous even.  

It feels like she would combust on the spot at the intensity of his gaze and closeness.

They continued to stare at each other… very much like a repeat of what happened in the lake.

They were supposed to kiss now right? Shouldn’t they?

It feels like it’s the only logical step next to this.

Slowly, she shuffled a bit closer and…

Zoro swiftly turned his head away as Nami’s heart sank in disappointment.

Damn it! When will he ever? WILL HE EVER?

Kami. He was a hard nut to crack.

There is something between them. And damn, by all means she would make it so that he wouldn’t, couldn’t resist her.

“Zo—”

“Oi!!!!! Watch out!!!”

A sudden splash of water hit her and Zoro, drenching them both.

The unmistakable laugh of their captain rang across the deck as both Nami and Zoro spluttered out expletives at the rubber man’s latest antic.

“Luffy damn it!”

“Luffy you idiot!”

“Shishishi…” Luffy chortled as he appeared before them, brandishing what could only be… a water gun?

His grin was mirthful and promised nothing but trouble.

 “Ladies and gentlemen,” Usopp’s voice suddenly blasted out from the crow’s nest speakers. “Time to find your team!”

“The Straw Hats water gun battle are about to commence in a few minutes!!!”

[iggy-of-fans]

Daminette AU idea part 4

I did not think this story would take off like that. Thank you all for your support! I also want everyone to know how difficult this part was for me to write. My Oma (grandmother) suffered from schizophrenia and PTSD, and a lot of Adrien's actions today will be a mirror of what she did or said. I apologize to everyone if this is offensive to you, I am basing this on my own personal experience but this is by far not what the majority of people are like when suffering from any mental health issues. If anybody has any tips for writing this, please message me! 

For better or for worse

The batfam immediately jumped into action, Dick rushes to the penthouse to pick up the Miraculous box, Tim runs to the batcave to locate where they might be, Jason goes immediately for his guns and Alfred transforms on the spot for the first time in 3 decades. Bruce makes sure the rest of the League has their costumes handy, while Barbara calls her father to set up a perimeter preemptively and minimize casualties. Damien holds Marinette close, wanting nothing more than to go get his sword and cut them down now, but not wanting to leave Marinette alone. Diana stands beside her also, looking at Marinette's pale face. She asks her quietly, will you run? Or fight? She says it in a steely voice that pulls Marinette from the tortures of the past and make her consider her surroundings. She will not stand by idly. She MUST protect the Miraculi. And she will not be a useless bystander. Her face still pale but set, she smiles to Diana. Dick chooses that moment to Portal back with the box and Marinette jumps on it, pulling out the Snake for Dick, telling him to transform and put his costume overtop. 

"if anything happens, this will give you a second chance. Use it as often as you need to, but know that you will need to recharge after" she then grabs another miraculous and asks him to pass it to Tim. She grabs the cat and gives it to Damien. "Transform or don't, but make sure that ring is well hidden." she grabs the dragon and calls Tikki to herself, asking her to change the shape. As she's doing that she turns to Diana. "Diana Prince, can I trust you to protect the Miraculous I hand you? Will you make sure that no matter what, this Miraculous will never fall into the hands of darkness and evil?" Diana nodded solemnly. ." I swear". Marinette nodded, picking up the changed Dragon Miraculous and handed Diana the Miraculous she would protect, while she transformed herself. The suit was still mostly black, with a red cape, but the five circles on her Cape and gloves looked slightly different. Damien couldn't place it, but something was different. Diana took her leave to quickly change. Damien turned to Marinette, still reluctant to leave her without a Wayne. Jason came in at that moment, nodding to Damien he then took the rest of the box and and led Marinette to the bat cave. Alfred was on the computer with Oracle already, Tim was trying to figure out how to hide the ears that came with his under costume, listening to the police scanner to see if they had any leads yet. The League was starting to gather and Damien as Robin materialized at Marinette's side. 

"The situation we find ourselves in today is quite different. Few of us are masters at magic, let alone an ancient magic to do with gods. However, this is what we know: Adrien Agreste, former Chat Noir, has lost his mind and is coming here because he saw the Miraculous Cure from Guardian Angel two weeks ago. According to our public source, he wants the Miraculi of the cat and of ladybug to wish back a dead classmate and create a "perfect world" for himself. What that world looks like for the rest of us is anybody's guess, but something I am unwilling to even entertain. With the permission from Guardian Angel we have the use of a few Miraculi at our hands. Angel? Do you have information to pass on?"

" I want everyone to remember that yes, we're dealing with teenagers, but they're not without their dangers. We're not only dealing with the former Chat Noir, but also Rena Rouge. Neither of them were big planners, but Rena Rouge was sharp and observative, and we also know that they have the, unwilling it may be, help from a brilliant strategist and hacker. Max created a sentimental robot at age thirteen and can override street cams and home security. Alya is an aspiring journalist, she spent her every minute since our first appearance tracking us, trying to unmask us. We know from Nino's message that they've got the backing from a metropolis villain, and that Adrien and Alya are more than slightly unhinged. That means there is very little they're NOT willing to do" 

The next 20 minutes were spent planning, they were counting on robots and guns, so they put the more bullet resistant members at the front. The majority would remain back up, protect the Miraculi in the tower, and run interference to keep civilians safe. All the planning in the world would not prepare them for what they met at Gotham City outskirts. 

Nino was worried. He'd seen some weird and nasty things in Paris during Hawkmoth's reign, but the fear he felt now eclipsed it all. Adrien was standing by the window at Luthor corp. He looked serene, a soft smile on his face. But his eyes weren't seeing the Metropolis skyline. They were unfocused and every once in a while he'd nod his head, as if agreeing with a thought he'd just had. His smile would become a smirk, and he would look dangerous, like when he had killed Max's parents. He'd been reluctant at first, Nino could tell. He'd hesitated. But then he'd turned his head, as if hearing something, nodded along, and then done what he had to. He'd turned back to sunshine child in a heartbeat, smiling reassuringly and telling Max that the Miraculous would bring them back, he just had to help them get it. The blood dripping down his shirt made the boy look far more deranged than reassuring. The fact he was looking over Max's shoulder rather than at his face made it even worse. This pattern continued for a while. He'd hesitate, and a bit of the Adrien from the first day of school would shine through, but he'd hear something and he'd do it. He always turned back to the sweet boy next door afterwards, but everytime became easier for him do something atrocious. Fourteen victims later and now he just smiled, as if trying to reassure his victim that they'd be okay. Nino shuddered. What the heck was happening with Adrien? He looked to the other two in the room. 

Alya was glaring at a computer provided to them. She shuddered at Adrien's behaviour as well, but she needed to get revenge. Ladybug had been her hero and then had turned around and had Alya arrested and Lila deported. And Lila could NOT be a liar. Because if Lila was a liar, that meant that Alya had ruined her reputation as a journalist, had fought with and hurt her friend for a nobody. And that was unacceptable. She was a journalist. She was never wrong!.... Except right now, when she was trying to prove Lila's innocence. Now, as she researched all the amazing things Lila had done, all she was finding were the stories she herself posted. And videos debunking each and every claim. Even Lila's mother had stated that they hadn't left Paris once since landing. "Dammit! Lila is not a liar!" Alya screamed at her computer. 

"She won't be when I make my wish" Adrien said, still smiling softly over Alya's head. 

"What do you mean?" Alya's voice was sharp. 

"Nothing" Adrien shook his head. 

"We're ready to proceed" Lex Luther stated from the door, a sick smile on his face.

Max was ready to wet himself. Or have mental breakdown number five. This was insane! How could Adrien think any of this was okay? How could he think the Miraculi would fix all the damage he had done, when there was no proof it even worked outside of magic? Max looked fearfully towards Nino for reassurance, but there had been no reply so far from any heroes. Had they received the message? Were Nino and Max also in trouble by association? What was their plan to help the heroes? Looking out at the elaborate lay out of Luther's hidden base, Max wasn't sure if there was anything they could do. Looking at Nino's pale face and Adrien's serene smile was not at all reassuring.

This is bad, was the collective thought from the members of the League. Usually Luther was a one man (even if that man was Super) job. But this.... How had he gotten so many people under his thumb? When? Staring back at them were the faces of jot only Luther's Army, but all surviving member os the League of Assassins, including Bane, and what looked like Scarecrow. Interspersed were some Luther Tec robots and hired guns.

"OH.... This is much worse than I thought"

Thank you so much for sticking with me so far! The next part will hopefully be out by tonight and then the last part will likely take me a few days between University! Hope you enjoy! I hope I got all the people who asked to be tagged. I'm still learning the ropes but I'm trying my best.

@bookreader20003 @mooshoon @artxyra @spicybelladonna @nyctamaximoff @captainmac6 @fsketchart @2sunchild2 @northernbluetongue @kuroko26 @multishipper1needshalp @ginamarie1512 @blue-peach14 @xxkelsey39

@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

[fromtraveldiaries]

Kanha - 5

Safari 3: Kisli Zone (Morning)

At 6 am we board the Gypsy for the morning safari. We are heavily dressed for the biting cold. We are particularly grateful for the balaclava (that was purchased in 2012 in downtown Leh while shopping for the EBC trek but hadn’t been used ever) that protects us from the swirling mist and freezing air that are out to get us in the general grogginess of pre-dawn darkness.

The silence of our drive on the bumpy road is shattered by shrill cries that suddenly fill the air. We halt the Gypsy. The cries seem to be coming from the thicket on the left. We manoeuvre the Gypsy and turn on the powerful lights to spot a pair of deer frantically bellowing out the alarm call. They look visibly scared, their big wide eyes reflecting fear in the light. We study the surroundings that lie just outside the beams of light for movement. We go back a few yards and direct light towards the thicket again to see if we can spot the source of the distress. We go forward a few yards and repeat the exercise. The deer are still very alert but the tension has lessened. Alarm calls continue at less frequency and seem to be moving in a westerly direction. ‘Probably a big cat just passed by’, Mr. Ashu observes, explaining the scene for the first time. We realize that in the 3 minutes since we stopped, we are hardly breathing.

We are too caught up in the tense experience to even consider taking out the cameras. One would imagine that as onlookers we wouldn’t be deeply affected by the plight of the deer. However, the fear seems more visceral than vicarious. ‘It can be quite an experience to deal with the emotions that arise in the wild. Different people react differently. But one has to realize that there’s no preplanned malice by the hunter nor complex afterthought by the hunted. It’s just the way of the world,’ Mr. Ashu shouts over the steady rush of the wind as we speed along on the metaled road towards the park gate.

The sky is already brightening as we wait for our guide. We watch wistfully as other Gypsies enter the park while we wait. At last our man appears. He takes the back seat and we amble along. All the mist-laden pictures of Kanha that we had seen earlier do little justice to the actual view. The mist is especially dense on the water bodies. The scene is right out of a Hindi horror movie. We glide along the mist laden trails through numerous water bodies. Finally, we see the dark orange sun peeping out from behind distant trees. Despite the sun announcing its arrival, light is dim and the forest is swathed in a veil of thin wickedness. Visibility isn’t good and the forest is eerily silent. It is at times like these that the tiger makes an entrance.

We spot a little clearing by tall grasses where a family of deer are grazing. They are alert and from time to time lift their heads as if to scan the surroundings. Somewhere in the jungle, monkeys shriek. We sit tight in anticipation. A barasingha sounds an alarm. The deer look up again. The barasingha is joined by another. At regular intervals the calls keep coming. For maybe 3 minutes. ‘You can track a tiger’s movement by listening to the calls of other animals. Birds, monkeys, deer, barasinghas will all alert you to a tiger’s presence. The alarm calls precede a tiger’s presence and die down as the tiger moves on. Animals see a tiger and sound an alarm. The tiger then hides. The animals think the tiger is gone. So they stop their calls. Then the tiger reappears. And the alarm calls restart. In the jungle, animals only react to what they see. If they see the tiger, they call. If they don’t see the tiger, even if the tiger is right there hidden behind the bushes, they don’t call. They live in the present - very real-time and immediate’, our guide speaks in undertones.

The monkeys have stopped their ruckus by now. The deer have also relaxed and are moving further into the forest. We still sit in the clearing waiting till the alarm calls die down. The tiger seems to have moved on from this area. We follow the sounds. The sun continues to shine through tall trees, casting more shadows than light. Mr. Ashu and the guide scan the trail for pug marks. There are none. We climb uphill and meet a Gypsy going downhill that tells us that a tiger crossed their path moments ago. This is probably the same tiger that had set off the alarm calls. We proceed slowly till level ground all the while scanning the vegetation on the left. We come upon the bend on the trail and bump into 2 other Gypsies that are still. Everyone is craning their necks. Something’s happening ahead, excitement increases.

We see the white whiskers first. Then we see the stripes. A magnificent tiger gingerly appears from the left, stares at the waiting Gypsies, crosses the trail to the right. He is very relaxed, neither dazed nor in a hurry. He approaches a tree, looks up as if contemplating climbing it. He stands on his hind legs and clutches the tree with the front paws. He crosses the trail again and goes to the left. It stops to look at us from time to time. Our presence doesn’t scare or anger him. He continues to study the grass, lie down, yawn, and proceeds to leave his scent on the trail by rubbing his underside on the foliage. We think he’s also farting into the grass to leave behind his scent. ‘Like most predators, tigers mark their territories by leaving their smell behind. This is M1. This is not his usual territory. But of late, we have been seeing him here. He’s difficult to spot but has over time got used to all the attention. Earlier he was very fidgety and would disappear into the bushes on seeing the Gypsies. Now he’s more assured and relaxed. He’s new to this area but has been moving in these parts since some time, probably reconnoiterring the area before settling down. M1 is named so as he’s the eldest of the 4 cubs, M1 through M4. They are all the offsprings of T8,’ Mr. Ashu explains.

M1 is a nice name to have - simultaneously anonymous and a stand-out. It's a fully grown adult male - a big animal, probably more than 2 meters in length and more than a meter in height. We are surprised that he's not roaring, not growling, not baring his menacing fangs. We are surprised that he's letting itself be watched, clicked, commented on for such a long time. We follow it for maybe 200-250 meters. If the Gypsies give it more room who knows how far it's willing to walk straight on the track! The sun is stronger now, casting a bright yellow light that bounces off the shiny orange coat of M1. Alternating sun and shade paint M1 as an unreal ephemeral beast.

Our guide explains standing atop his seat for a better view of M1. ‘The tigress pushes the cubs away nearly after 2-2.5 years of birth. The cubs become a burden for the tigress around that time. She has to hunt almost daily if she has to feed her litter at 2 years. A single kill (depending on its size) can last a tiger from a couple of days up to a week. With cubs it becomes difficult to ration food. Once they are separated from their mother, the cubs figure out ways to hunt, establish territories, find partners to mate, etc. They also forget their mothers or siblings after a while. Except a young mother with cubs, it’s all about survival of the self.’ ‘Deer are the most frequent kill. Boars are a good kill but they require a lot of work. Munna used to steal cattle from neighboring villages’, he continues.

While M1 is calm personified, the Gypsies are restless. They are inching forward in low gear with restrained engines and excited tourists. All of them want to get close to the tiger. M1 senses this and stares up and down the trail. He acts cool but the noise is starting to get to him. He walks in the middle of the track for a long time, Gypsies at his tail. There are Gypsies on the other side too, delaying their departure to allow M1 to come as close to them as possible. M1 doesn’t mind the attention but he’s had too much of it now. He enters the thicket on the left and for a while walks alongside the trail before disappearing into the trees.

We speed away after M1 leaves. The rest of the safari is a blur after the high of M1. However, we remember a few things vividly. We spot a playful jackal couple in the sun close to the place we have breakfast at. Winter sun is pleasant for everyone - humans and animals alike. We marvel at the numerous streams and the bamboo bushes. We spot and click a lot of birds - parakeets, jungle babblers (also known as the Seven Sisters), oriental magpie robins, Indian rollers, kingfishers, woodpeckers, greater racket-tailed drongos, and black drongos. We sit for a long time under the trees listening to birds and trying to name them. It’s great fun. We learn a lot about birds from the guide and Mr. Ashu. Our appreciation of birds stems primarily from David Attenborough’s documentaries on Netflix. We spot a couple of tortoises with glistening backs that have surfaced in a pond to soak in the sun. An Indian cormorant is drying its wet wings next to them.

We are again climbing uphill when we hear alarm calls.  Another tiger! The calls increase in frequency and seem to move in a tangential direction which we anticipate to be behind us and wait at the estimated point of crossing. However, the calls change direction and move away from us. The big cat seems to have changed its mind. We wait for a little while before proceeding towards the exit. It’s been a great day, and we are already thinking of documenting the day’s experiences before they fade away.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Unforeseen and Unforesaken

Chapter 5 in Dove’s debut story is now live! Anyone like Teen Titans OCs with social anxiety, connections to Azarath, magic, and a secret? (Story takes place in a world that blends 80′s New Teen Titans canon with the 2003 cartoon, heavier on the latter.)

And then, voice low, hanging back for a moment of discussion, Robin reminded them: "We still don't know if Dove is who she says she is. This is the perfect opportunity to learn more about her. And the sooner she settles in her own space, the sooner she'll be comfortable enough to talk to us."

An old friend, Dove’s avian companion, arrives on the island, and after their reunion, Raven helps Dove retrieve a box of items forgotten in the forest. 

Really? Dove reportedly had a violent premonition of utter devastation, the instantaneous death of a thousand people at the hands of an other-dimensional demon, and in response to such a dire threat, Dove had chosen to rescue that?

Then, arranging Dove’s room turns into a team effort complete with stories of Dove’s family history, while Dove unveils relics of her life in Azarath.

Nobody would deny that affixing wallpaper was much easier when you had two teammates in the air, a geographically calibrated laserpoint that doubles as a leveling beam, an octopus, and a grappling gun. 

Fanfic.net and AO3 links here: https://beyondthetemples-ooc.tumblr.com/post/627828457818226689/unforeseen-chapter-5-links

Chapter 5: Home Improvement

"Raven?"

Dove's quiet voice broke the silence of their coached meditation session gently—though when Raven opened her eyes, Dove was scrambling up and looking outside with her face practically pressed against the glass.

"Can we go outside?"

"I thought we agreed on two full hours of meditation," Raven sighed. It had hardly been a half hour—

"I already meditated this morning," Dove answered distantly, obviously distracted.

Raven looked up at her in genuine confusion. If it was such a struggle for her, more practice couldn't hurt. But... "Why didn't you tell me you already finished?"

When Dove looked over her shoulder, her chin was dipped timidly and her voice even more fragile than before. "Because I... like meditating with you...?"

"And why is that?"

"It's easier," Dove shrugged, eyes dropping in embarrassment. "Your calm is so... perfect. So steady. A lot deeper than mine..."

...well, she supposed there could be worse reasons... Still debating on whether she wanted to allow this flexibility in their training schedule, or if that would undermine the concept of discipline, she asked, "Why do you want to go outside?"

"Sieara."

"Sieara," Raven repeated flatly.

"Yes, Sieara! Raven, I think she's out there!" The excitement in her voice was subtle but genuine.

"And you want to check?"

"Yes! I—" Dove bit her lip, practically plastering herself against the window again. "We have a bond. A connection. Like the one I had with my mother, except—" She cut herself off there and shook her head before she could tempt any memories, or emotions. "I'm worried about her, Raven. She... She feels weak, and... I..." There her voice trailed off uncertainly, and she turned to her trainer, deferring to her permission but also with a thinly veiled plea and concern in her eyes.

Something instinctive told Raven it was warranted. "I guess. Just don't make a habit of interrupting training. These sessions are important."

Dove nodded swiftly and practically ran to the door—though she had to pause there because she barely knew how to get to the living room, and she hadn't gone back to the entrance since the moment she set foot in here. She had to wait for Raven to lead.

Luckily Raven seemed to pick up on her urgency and led them to the door with a hurried pace, but the moment they were outside Dove's eyes were wide and alert, and she turned left immediately and shot off, stumbling once on the unfamiliarly rocky slope but she managed to keep her balance. "I think she's this way!"

"Don't get too excited," Raven reminded her, following just quickly enough to keep up.

"But, Raven, she's—!" Dove's expression sank and her heart clenched when they neared the shore—and neared the small spot of white against the deep green and brown of the earth. "She's hurt..."

The bird was laying still on the rock, eyes open, but her chest heaving quickly under disheveled feathers and she seemed to blink her eyes on every other breath.

"How hurt?" Though empathy could have told her enough, Raven was busy focusing on the waves of emotion shifting through Dove's mind. Hesitance and investigating disbelief, quickly overruled by elated relief and frightened worry playing tug of war on a field of affectionate love.

She didn't know it was possible to feel so much for such a small bundle of feathers... but Dove obviously did. Even though she bit her lip and breathed through her nose, still smiling but trying not to feel too frightened or excited.

"Sieara, thank Azar you're alive..." She was afraid to pick her up, but she reached out and stroked her feathers, and the frail bird stirred at her touch before letting out a weak and smooth chirrup.

"...hurt," Dove analyzed, physical contact clarifying the empathy just well enough that she could interpret what her senses told her. "One wing's hurt... and she's so scared. I think something tried to attack her, and she crashed when she tried to land... Raven?"

Dove looked up, and Raven looked up as well. Something about the bird's mind seemed... strangely human, but before she could dwell, she read the hesitant hope in Dove's eyes, and sighed. "I can help," she consented. Animals felt pain and fear as much as any human, Raven knew that—and they could be healed just the same, too.

So she picked up the bird, exhausted and weak, but very much alive, and they attempted to heal her. (Or, Raven healed her while Dove tried, then failed, and thanked her profusely and focused on choking back tears of relief.)

The moment she could stir without her breast bone aching, Sieara blinked up at Raven, as if startled, then she wriggled energetically in the empath's hands, reaching for Dove immediately. Raven let her go; the bird fluttered straight to Dove's shoulder; and Dove's eyes lit with joy and unending relief.

She immediately reached up to stroke her. "I missed you," she crooned softly, letting the bird settle close against her neck. It was so good to feel her claws gripping her shoulders again, so good to have her oldest friend back after being separated and so, so very worried.

Crisis averted, there was time for observations and questions. Like any other Azarathean dove, Sieara was just small enough to fit in Raven's cupped hands, not nearly the size of a Jump City pigeon but still larger than most doves. And her feathers had looked pure white, except for the flash of purple Raven swore she saw when Sieara took flight. That wasn't normal. And something about it reminded her of... magic?

Dove glanced up when she felt the subtle shifts in Raven's guarded mind. "You... can probably tell she's not really a normal bird," she suggested uncertainly.

Raven nodded.

Dove went back to stroking the bird, affection and fondness in her eyes even as they went distant with memory. "She's not. Not anymore. Srentha put a spell on her," she explained. "That was my friend, Srentha... He made it so she could think like a human and understand more of our world... And he changed her tail, just for fun. So now her tail changes color with her emotions. Azar's magic and all... It was amazing what he could teach me in just ten minutes..." Dove sighed at a lighthearted memory of him showing her a simple illusion spell, grinning at the memory of his wild, silvery hair glowing with a green-golden tint and his utter elation at such a simple wonder.

The dove nibbled her hair, tugging her back to Earth. Lovingly.

Dove blinked. "Now she's... more intelligent than most birds. He made it so she'd glow if she was near anything magical. And cast a spell that allows her to sense magic and track it, and so many other things he never had the chance to explain..."

Magically enhanced mind or not, Raven groaned internally at the thought of having yet another pet roaming the Tower. "Just don't expect me to clean up after her."

Since then, the loyal bird never seemed to leave Dove's shoulder—except to sleep of course (and even that was speculation). It was like she was afraid to lose her again.

But for the moment:

An awkward, concerned glance across the river shifted Dove's attention from the bird. "Um, while we're out here... I did leave a box of things in the forest..."

"And you left them all the way in the forest, because?"

"I thought they were safe. And... I, kind of... forgot."

"How, exactly?"

Dove shrugged, too uncomfortable to meet her eyes. "I hadn't slept well. I had a nightmare, and... and I just wanted to get there—Get here. And by the time I remembered, I-I was already an entire day away. I thought I could go back, and, and get them, eventually..." Distant, somehow fragile helplessness came into her as the words trickled to a stop for a beat of withdrawn silence, until her voice murmured forth like a haunted shadow of what her explanation had been.

"Those things didn't seem important, when I thought I was going to die."

Raven's eyes shifted from bored, to... dare she admit it, sympathetic? "If you chose to bring them across the dimensional boundaries, they must be pretty important."

Dove nodded.

"Well? Where are we going?"

Dove blinked up from her introspective trance. "Uhhhm... Across the city..."

Had she already forgotten how far that was? "We'd better start walking."

That signature uneasiness was back yet again. "Oh. Uhhm... Yeah."

Twenty minutes of walking later, when they'd barely stepped off the bridge, Raven knew Dove really wasn't kidding about that whole "not good with people" thing. Hiding behind her, fleeing their gaze, ducking out of sight... and they hadn't even crossed the beach.

"We'll never get there at this rate."

Dove's gaze fell under the weight of embarrassment. "Sorry..."

"You have got to stop saying that."

(She just pulled her cloak and shoulders in tighter.)

"Maybe we should circumvent the city."

Raven used this as an opportunity to help Dove with her levitation problems, but it ended in disaster; Dove couldn't get in the air, couldn't ease her nerves, couldn't even move straight... and then nearly knocked herself out trying to land in the forest between two trees, and only making it into the first.

Poor Sieara had shot from her perch and was fluttering anxiously from branch to branch, curr-cooing worriedly until Dove opened her eyes.

Once they were sure the crash didn't result in a concussion, Raven helped Dove carry the wooden container into the Tower, both girls using telekinesis—well, mostly Raven; Dove spent most of the journey nearly dropping herself to the ground, she couldn't possibly hold up the box too.

But they made it back alive.

Once they were in her room, safely grounded, Raven watched Dove kneel beside the crate, her eyes distant and her hand resting on its lid.

"Aren't you going to unpack it?"

Dove asked, "Where would I put everything?"

"Good point," Raven conceded after scanning the empty room. "Any ideas?"

Dove blinked up at her in confusion. "For what?"

"Shelving. Tables. Places to put your precious... things. Setting up the room, to be your room."

Dove's eyes lit up—she had never been able to change her surroundings, personalize any place she lived... She never even had her own room before! "Um... I think so. Yeah, actually."

But where to begin?

Only another moment's hesitation, and Dove voiced that she might, maybe, need a shelf? "I used to read three new books every week," she told Raven. "I love reading..."

The gaze Raven responded with was uncertain, half understanding, half bewildered.

They seemed more similar every day.

"Until you have books to fill it with..."

They later moved forward at Robin's suggestion: Using a catalog to find and order her decorations. It didn't take long for everyone to notice Dove's choices were based on peace, safety, and security, no physical thing in particular. Dove wanted it to remind her of Azarath. Which made it a lot harder for the others to make suggestions, but Dove seemed quite certain of what "like Azarath" entailed.

Raven seemed to mysteriously disappear before Dove could explain to the others exactly what Azarath was like, and Dove's throat closed around any attempt to talk about it, anyways.

Everyone had downtime when the shipment arrived, and so Robin called it moving day.

"Is the Moving Day yet another one of your Earthly hollering days?"

Robin explained patiently: "It's not a holiday, Starfire. It just means we're going to help Dove move her new things in."

Beast Boy groused, "When did it become moving day?"

And Robin leveled, "When the shipment arrived and proved we need to help Dove assemble everything she ordered."

"But we had a five-hour gaming marathon scheduled for two o'clock!"

"Yeah, and it's almost two o'clock!" Cyborg tapped the digital readout on his wrist.

Their leader checked the other two before elaborating; Raven was thoroughly engaged in lecturing Dove through another attempt at telekinesis with the smallest, lightest box, and Dove was indeed focusing on the task so hard, her steps were stiff with auto-piloting and tension.

And then, voice low, hanging back for a moment of discussion, Robin reminded them: "We still don't know if Dove is who she says she is. This is the perfect opportunity to learn more about her. And the sooner she settles in her own space, the sooner she'll be comfortable enough to talk to us."

Robin ran up to them eagerly. "Hey! It's best to leave the boxes out here. We should personalize the walls before you get the furniture in."

Dove looked almost as exasperated as Raven, and twenty times as breathless. "You mean... I brought—the boxes... up here, and we... We can't use them—?"

"Not now. But don't worry, it wasn't for nothing. It's just going to be a little later than you thought."

Raven said, "We could use the break."

(Dove sighed at her use of "we", wishing such a simple task hadn't been so frustrating.)

Robin quickly took the role of impromptu project manager, and everyone in the tower pitched in.

The first thing they changed when she moved in was the color; Dove preferred it to be soft on the eyes, with a dark blue carpet on the floor and the ceiling dark green with stick-on clouds, accented with a multi-colored galaxy on the wall opposite her window, a custom commission she had fallen in love with especially for its reminiscence of Azarath's skies. The moment her lamp was plugged in, she began to forgo the (recently-repaired) ceiling light entirely, and instead kept it lit by that soft, golden glow.

Nobody would deny that affixing wallpaper was much easier when you had two teammates in the air, a geographically calibrated laserpoint that doubles as a leveling beam, an octopus, and a grappling gun.

Dove, largely unable to fly, or move anything useful, or assemble shelving, or generally help in any way, didn't know what to do and mostly stood off to the side awkwardly... until, at Robins' suggestion, she drew up a vague yet surprisingly recognizable draft of the furnished room in the pen and notepad he produced from his belt, with labels to give them an idea of their goal.

Then it was time to assemble the shelves. Beast Boy nearly tripped over the crate while handing Robin a screwdriver and danced around it with the slightest flail of his arms. "Hey, what's in this box?"

Dove pulled it into her lap and sat on the bed. "Well..." She began unpacking its contents—thus revealing the contents of her previous life.

A knee-jerk surge of pragmatic responsibility rose in Raven's mind: We should probably get back to work...

...but a moment later her curiosity and suspicion won out; she couldn't help wanting to learn everything she could about the younger Azarathean.

The first thing Dove took out (and held with the most careful and reverent touch) was a small golden statue of an Azarathean dove. The base curved out like the foot of a wine glass and fit perfectly cupped in Dove's palm. The bird had its wings outspread, and they were so meticulously detailed, the individual feathers shined clearly, with its fanned tail making it seem like the bird would soar right from Dove's hand as she held it on her open palm.

Really? Dove reportedly had a violent premonition of utter devastation, the instantaneous death of a thousand people at the hands of an other-dimensional demon, and in response to such a dire threat, Dove had chosen to rescue that? Raven couldn't wrangle her disbelief. "Why would you bring something so... small?"

The sincerity strengthening Dove's voice indicated no small significance. "It relaxes me, and helps me remember happier times... It was my mother's favorite, and mine, too. My grandmother added the base for my mother's hands. It was crafted from pure Azarathean gold, and decorated with textures that are just... so breathtakingly realistic; she carved it by hand and magic, Raven. Bringing it to Earth was like saving a piece of Azarath. And my mother. It... keeps me calm."

Raven could only wonder what it was like, to have so much sentiment attached to a family heirloom.

And... Had Dove really said so many words at once, without a single gasp or stutter? Maybe there really was some steadying magic in the little golden bird.

It seemed Dove was blissfully oblivious to her musing. But after another breath, gentle and sighing, she finally put the figure down (just beside her, right up against her leg), and pulled out a larger gold item wrapped in so much familiarly formative, grounding, internalizing magic, Raven's attention snapped raptly alert.

Dove was holding a mirror. A modestly-sized hand mirror, with a golden rim carved to look like outspread wings and the handle turned into an outspread tail. Closer inspection revealed gold-rimmed wood in a very delicate hue, carved with filamental mystic whorls arranged in layers of 3 reaching from the glass to its wing-tips and tail.

Raven's astonishment, and the immediate yelp and recoil Beast Boy and Cyborg performed in unison once they saw it, made Dove giggle a note or two, and she put it on the bedside table. A moment of consideration, and she told them, "My mother made it by hand, but used magic too..." Then she gave Raven a glance, with a sheepish, tiny grin, and a confession. "She heard about yours, how it helps you with meditation, and we both really liked the idea. Since it's... hard for me to meditate on my own..."

Next Dove pulled out a well-worn, hard-bound book with care and set it beside her on the bed. "My mother used to read it to me all the time..."

Two more books sat beneath it, and then Dove took out a gently-used journal, two notebooks both she and her mother filled, a tome she declared came from her grandmother, a few scrolls from the same woman, and a lightly used journal or two, the bound items sometimes small and seemingly insignificant, but always inked with Azarathean calligraphy.

"For poetry, not agenda, or... keeping track of all the bad things that happen," Dove explained quietly. "Nothing special..." She sighed, then took out the rest of the box's contents: another book, a few crumbling leaves with a refreshing scent, and a bag of dried vegetables and grains for Sieara. And then the box was empty.

"These things bring back so many memories... I just wish I wasn't in such a rush to get out of there and had said goodbye to Srentha."

"At least you weren't killed by—"

"I know," Dove cut her off hurriedly, almost CHOKED it, as if the thought stung her. "But it still hurts to know I'll never see him again..."

Raven echoed, "Srentha. Why does that name sound familiar?"

"You lived in the temple, right? He was the high-magistrate's grandson."

"I... didn't even know Coman had a child, let alone a grandchild."

"Me neither, until Srentha showed up. He spent most of his life training in the libraries, locked away from the rest of the world..."

Raven sensed an aching pain, a loneliness so deep it had to have come from shared experience. Her brows contracted with her own empathy, ever so slightly.

"Srentha was like a brother to me... but, now, all I have left of him is my memories."

"Hold them close," Raven advised calmly. "They're as precious now as they were then."

Dove nodded—glanced away...

She was looking for a distraction. Seeing wisdom in that, Raven offered, "We should probably put these away."

Dove nodded and picked up the books before setting them on the single bedside shelf. Then she took the statue and the ingredients in her hands thoughtfully, and put the ingredients on the middle shelf, the statue next to the books.

She continued her impromptu stories as she set them in place. "My grandmother wrote this one. She was very powerful with magic, and she was even an advisor to our leader, but she caused too many arguments among the council, experimented with things we really weren't supposed to do, and she wound up exiled. So she wrote her experiments down here instead. She had kept it hidden away for years, until the Azaratheans banished her, and then, it was almost two decades before she sent it back 'home' in my mother's hands when she sent her back to Azarath. I inherited it the moment I knew, that... my mother was going to die. And... she knew I wasn't."

Nobody complained that she wasn't helping them, because it was keeping them all entertained. Who knew Dove had such a family history?

Dove's gaze was distanced, but a frail smile graced her lips, like she didn't mind recounting such stories one bit. "And this one..." She withdrew a small band in a bright golden yellow, runes inscribed on its outer surface—

Wait, Beast Boy knew that ring! His elephant form perked up just enough to bumble into the smaller shelf Robin was inspecting, they jumped back and it tottered—

"WHOOOA!" Cyborg cried out and braced to steady it. "Watch it, Dumbo!" He shot Beast Boy a disgruntled glare.

Beast Boy whirled back to human form and rubbed his neck. "Heh heh, my bad. So, uhh. Who else is thirsty?"

Robin looked over. "I could definitely use a drink."

Starfire chimed, "A glass of mustard would be MOST refreshing!"

He zoomed right out to prepare.

With a nod of approval at his and Cyborg's handiwork, Robin turned from the shelf to see what had distracted him... and he also recognized that decorated gold band immediately. "So. Another Ring of Azar, huh?"

"How did you get that?"

Dove cringed at Raven's sudden demand. "From Azar. It was treasured by my grandmother... Magena. That's who I told you about—"

"Why did you keep it?"

Dove's voice suddenly went very, very quiet. "It felt important. Like I needed it."

"What do you need with something that powerful?"

"Protection. Calm... Guidance. After my mother's—When she; I-I— I..."

Raven remained sharply withdrawn against the wall, arms crossed, head low. But her quiet voice was sharp and unyielding as steel.

"What do you know of protection?"

Dove's mouth hung open, speechless and helpless in the face of her honesty... until she just dropped her gaze, and surrendered to silence.

"Ooookay." The awkward tension was broken by Cyborg. "Things are gettin' a little heated in here."

"Who wants some nice, cold, fresh-from-the-fridge chilled-out iced tea!"

Beast Boy reentered with a big tray filled with overly sweetened lemonade and extra-cold, extra-iced iced tea.

The others took it readily, but he had to directly offer it to their new roommate. "Tea, right?"

Dove only took it because he offered so exuberantly, and she nodded, so he handed the glass off with an especially excited smile.

"Bet you've never had tea like that."

Which piqued her curiosity and led Dove to taste it once, twice—and then cough at how sweet it was until tea came dribbling out her nose.

Beast Boy promptly erupted in laughter, and Raven rolled her eyes.

Meanwhile, Starfire sipped from her own glass of much thicker liquid, and with the room littered in empty boxes and packaging plastic, their mission for the day seemed to be completed. "Have we completed the improvement of your home to satisfaction?"

Dove nodded.

Cyborg's appraisal led to curiosity. "Now how is she going to fill a shelf that big with those tiny things?"

"Well," Raven offered, "she said she likes to read..."

"Ooh!" Beast Boy volunteered, "I have these awesome animal books I could show you!"

Dove tilted her head. "I liked a couple stories with animals."

Eyes shining, he smugly specified: "These aren't just stories, and they're all about the animals!"

Cyborg, in response to her blank-faced blinking: "What, you've never read a biology book before?"

Dove hesitated a moment, uncertain—then decided she must not have, and shook her head.

"What do you read?"

"I... like poetry, and mythology?"

Starfire leapt into the air, her smile ELATED! "Oh, I too enjoy the logging of myths, and rhyming words! There are so many beautiful and thrilling tales I can share from my home planet."

"I'd... like to read them... If that would be okay?"

Beast Boy nudged her. "Only if you want to spend like fourteen hours listening to the Tale of woober-snitzel or whatever."

Dove's face blanked. "Fourteen hours?"

"No exaggeration."

Robin suggested, "Maybe we'll take a trip downtown, show you the library."

Dove's eyes were then openly delighted, though her voice stayed modest as ever. "I think I'd like that. Can we go now?"

"The library won't be open when it's 11 at night."

Raven added, "And we do have a training session in seven hours."

Only the low-toned flatness in her voice betrayed her dread, but three of her four teammates groaned audibly.

"Guess we better get some sleep."

Robin stalled, "There's just one more thing." Dove watched quizzically as he rushed from the room, quickly becoming aware that she was the only one confused, and she almost started to dread his return.

But when he returned shortly, it was to offer her a pyramidal stack bound in ribbon with a big white bow in the center. "There's one from each of us."

Taking the pile from him revealed the stack to be five books. Dove's eyes were wide, her brow furrowed, and after pulling the ribbon aside, and staring at them in silent wonder, processing the shock and depths of gratitude, her arms wrapped around the small bundle, and she clutched them close to her chest. "Thank you. Thank you so much, I—I don't know what to say."

"Welcome home," Robin smiled.

She nodded, she smiled, and then she set them all on the shelf immediately, already debating which to read first.

As she stepped back to admire them, Cyborg surveyed the space. "Well, it's not exactly magazine material, but it's looking good."

Now that they finally finished setting up the small room, it was sparsely decorated but with plenty of personality. A big wall-sized shelf housed Dove's cherished books both old and new, a hanging censer from a new-age catalog awaited its smoldering incense, the small bedside table bore a drawer, her bed (and new rounded wraparound headboard) was centered on the back wall with a smaller shelf on its other side, and her big, thick black curtain was hung and prepared to cover the window behind it whenever she wanted to lock out the light.

Her shelves had a slight elegant curve to them (which to her felt like an homage to Azarathean architecture), and they were sparsely cluttered with books. Just a dozen now, but to her they meant everything in the world.

There was also her bed frame, of course, outfitted with a flat wooden headboard rising towards the ceiling, outlined with light gold accents, shaped into dual mounds that wrapped around the mattress with a peak between them, like a bird lifting its beak skyward, holdings its wings down and nearly embracing the mattress, calming and protectively. It surrounded a spacious queen-size with about five pillows and three separate blankets—Dove obviously treasured coziness and comfort. The bedside table was small and elegant with light decorations, silver and gold; her mindscape mirror rested on its surface, along with a notebook and pen, and inevitably it would hold a book she wasn't busy reading just then.

The whole place was very tidy, mostly because she didn't have much to clutter it with, and Dove imagined she would only ever use one thing at a time and tenderly set it back to safety at night, anyways.

It was wonderful. And Dove finally felt like, maybe, she could start to feel at HOME here.

"You'll feel just like a member of the team in no time."

Dove just bit her lip and shook her head slowly. She'd never dreamed they'd accept her so openly...

Then again, they didn't know what she had to hide.

[cluttermind]

Without A Parachute (6/15) - Feels Like This

Summary:  Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 24,187 total / 6,381 Ch 6

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

Note: I'm SO sorry this took longer than I had anticipated to write. To make up for the delay it's a slightly longer chapter with a lot of fluff and some smut mixed if (so if that's not your thing feel free to scroll through that part). I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading, for your comments, and for your support. Stay safe out there everyone! I’d definitely read this one on ao3 for formatting since I might miss some italics here

//

When it feels like this, like a light came on

And you look at me like I’m all you want

I got everything at my fingertips

How can I resist when it feels like this?

-Maisie Peters, Feels Like This

“You had one fucking job! She told you exactly what to do, wrote it all out for you, you incompetent monkey.” A dark figure shrieked at the man in the hoodie, Emma’s necklace digging into the palm of a tightly clenched fist.

“She’ll do what you need her to. It was enough,” the man responded.

“That’s up to Him to determine,” the figure said. “You have no idea what He’s capable of.”

“I can handle myself you bitch. I played my part. You and I both know that you’re no more of a pawn in His game than I am.”

“You’re just a pathetic excuse for a man who had nothing better to do. Apparently you’re not even capable of a quick fuck. You’re an expendable sidekick. He created you thousands of years ago to run His errands, to do His dirty work. I can give Him what he wants and He can help me get my revenge and even now after all this time you’re still useless.”

“I. Played. My. Part. You’d be nowhere without me.” The man closed the distance between him and the dark figure. “You’re just mad you can’t bring her down by yourself. You need Him. You need us and that kills you.”

“At least I have a reason, you’re just evil,” the figure snarled at him.

“And that is exactly why you like me.” The man stepped closer to the figure, closing the distance between them, his tone resembling something close to seduction although the animal-like hiss still remained.

“He won’t be happy,” the figure responded, ignoring the man’s advances.

“It was enough. Just wait. The darkness in her is bound to consume her. It’s only a matter of time.”

“She’ll pay for what she did.”

***

Two weeks later, midterms were finally over which meant spring break had finally started. Emma and Killian had been texting regularly, usually late at night and in the morning when Emma wasn’t drowning under books or in class. She barely slept. Whenever she finally calmed herself down from exam stress enough to close her eyes every night, the nightmares she had shook her to her core and kept her from sleeping. So she was looking forward to a break.

It was Friday. Most students had already left for hometowns or vacation destinations to escape the cold, including Elsa, August and Robin. Campus and Collegetown were nearly empty. Killian had suggested they go out to dinner to celebrate the end of her exam period and kick off her spring break. The thing was, Emma had no idea what this dinner was.

Was it a night out between friends?

Was it a date?

Were they grabbing a slice of pizza around the corner?

Were they going somewhere nice?

Were they walking?

Were they driving?

Was she driving?

Was he driving?

Did he expect something after?

Emma nervously stared at the two dresses she owned hanging in her sorry excuse for a closet. Elsa, unfortunately, left for break the night before and since Emma wasn’t sure what this dinner was she didn’t ask her friend if she could borrow a dress. So she opted for the flowy pink dress Mary Marget helped her buy for her high school graduation and pulled her hair up into a ponytail to keep her from looking too overdressed. After her last night out, she opted for shorter heels that she had a better chance at balancing and walking in even though they would inevitably cause her pain.

Still having about half an hour before Killian was supposed to pick her up, she fiddled her hands nervously as she paced her small room. Compared to his beautiful apartment in a building he owned, Emma’s ratty, run-down, strictly-a-place-to-sleep college apartment was an utter embarrassment. It was the cheapest thing she could find and the only thing she could afford and the last thing she wanted Killian to see.

Quickly, Emma shoved a change of clothes, socks, sneakers, pajamas, and her toiletries into her backpack (a little presumptuous but honestly a night away from an apartment that she had been having endless nightmares in that was empty except for her was something she welcomed, and maybe even hoped for). She threw her bag over her shoulder and left her apartment, walking toward the Jolly Roger.

She got there with 15 minutes to spare. It was mostly empty so she took her usual spot at the bar, setting her bag on the chair next to her.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender asked.

“Uhm just a Coke, thanks,” Emma responded.  “It’s Will Scarlet right? I think we met briefly before.”

“Yeah! It’s . . .” Will paused, clearly not remembering her name.

“Emma,” she smiled.

“Right! Emma. The Captain’s friend,” he noted, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. Will handed her the soda she asked for. She paid and sipped it slowly, hoping the bubbled would help settle her nervous stomach. They engaged in small talk for a bit, Will telling her some funny stories about patrons he observed. He was actually quite funny and the jokes were a welcomed distraction.

“Swan?” Killian had just come down from his apartment. He had traded his usually rock-star black for a more romantic blue for the evening. He donned dark navy dress pants and a matching vest over a pale blue dress shirt, black dress shoes, a black black belt and a black leather jacket. In one hand he held his keys and his phone; in the other he held a single red rose. “I was just about to leave to pick you up.”

She stood from her spot at the bar. “Oh right, sorry. I was ready early and my apartment was getting too quiet so I figured I’d just meet you here.”

“You look beautiful, love.” He sweetly kissed her cheek and handed her the rose.

Emma blushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink as she took the flower. “Thank you.” Date. Definitely a date.  

Killian turned to Will. “You good here, mate?”

“Yup, have fun!”

Killian picked up Emma’s bag from the chair it was on and slung it over his shoulder, as if the fact that she had an overnight bag hadn’t phased him at all. If it did, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact, it hadn’t phased him at all. They had spent nearly every night talking to each other until one of them fell asleep. He missed her. She hadn’t been to the pub to study for her exams as she wasn’t sure she was capable of handling the rush of memories that might flood her mind upon returning here for the first time since the incident while also having to deal with midterms. He missed her voice, her laugh, the way she kissed him, the way she smiled at him. He missed the easy rise and fall of her chest as she slept against him. Killian was far too deep into this for his own good but the effect she had on him was unstoppable. All at once she lit his world on fire and kept him grounded.

“Shall we?” He asked. Leading her out of the pub, he rested one hand on the small of her back and walked her to his car.  

Emma was barely able to form words, lost in her own thoughts. Exams were over. He was taking her on a date . He brought her a rose . She felt so free that it was like she was breathing fresh air for the first time. Emma could count on one hand the number of dates she had been on (meaning the one she was currently on). No one in high school was interested in dating the foster child or the girl who lived in her tiny car. People barely gave her the time of day, let alone got dressed up for her or bought her a rose. It wasn’t until Killian had started the car that she was able to find her voice again.

“You look nice, Killian.” She smiled at him, still holding the rose close to her, cherishing the sweet gift.

“Some might even say devilishly handsome ,” he smirked.

“Hah.” Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. “Remind me not to feed your ego ever again.” Killian laughed. It was the sweetest sound Emma had ever heard. “So where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, love.” They sat the rest of the short ride in comfortable silence. Emma’s heart was fluttering in a mess of excitement and nervousness. Eventually he pulled the car up to BoatYard Grill, a beautiful restaurant right on the water. It was a perfect balance of classy and casual, and even though it was too dark to be able to look out and really see the water, there was something magical, something romantic, about the feeling of the lakeside air.

Parking the car and slipping out of the driver’s seat, Killian jogged around to Emma’s side to open the door for her. “Milady,” he said, offering her a hand that she happily took with her free hand (one still held the rose that she refused to let go of).

She giggled as she got out of the car, Killian closing the door behind her. “Why thank you, Captain .”

Killian kept her hand in his as he led her to the restaurant, telling the hostess that he has a reservation under Jones. He made a reservation for her . There were little things that Emma had never experienced growing up in the foster system. Dinner reservations was one of them. And Killian took the time and made the effort to plan an evening. For her. For them. Oh Swan you’re really in it with this one.

They were seated at a quiet table for two in the back of the restaurant. Killian ordered a glass of wine. Emma stuck with water. Even though she had a pretty solid fake, she hadn’t been too keen on drinking ever since -

“How was your last exam today?” Killian asked.

“Oh fine. Intro to Psych is pretty easy. It feels so nice to have a break for a bit.”

“Are you heading home for break?” He asked, curiously. As much as they spoke, Emma never talked about home.

“Uhm.” Emma hesitated, unsure of whether to tell him the truth. The last thing she wanted was for Killian to look at her differently. But he was someone who had seen her at her worst and held her through the night when she was desperate to not be alone. “No. I, uhm, don’t really have a home. I grew up being shuffled around foster homes in Minnesota until I was 16 and lived in my car for two years so I could finish high school in one school just to have a shot at an Ivy League.”

“Emma I’m so sorry.” Killian reached across the table, resting a hand on hers. She didn’t see the typical pity in his eyes that she had seen in others who knew her story. She saw sympathy. Still, Emma wanted to change the subject and remembered the University of Oxford shirt he had given her to sleep in once.

“So you went to Oxford?”

“Aye, for a year. Then I spent two years mostly traveling and sailing before my grandfather stopped funding my escapades and told me to get my act together. So I came here and decided to open the pub.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Killian welcomed the interruption when their waiter came to take their orders. This wasn’t a story he was itching to share, let alone share on a first date. Once the waiter left, an older woman popped by the table after the waiter left.

“Killian, my boy!”

Killian stood to hug the woman, “Angela, it’s good to see you.”

“How’s your grandmother doing? Where in the world is she now? It’s impossible to contact her these days!”

“Belize? I think? At least that’s where the last postcard was from.” Killian shrugged. “How are you?”

“Oh just fine. Business is good, Jim is good, although he sure does miss having your grandfather around.”

“They were always up to something.” Killian said, fond memories of his grandfather and Angela’s husband betting nickels and dimes in poker every week at the lake house in the summer and, once he opened the pub, taking up their designated seats at the bar nearly every day.

“And who’s this pretty lady?” Angela turned her attention to Emma.

“Angela this is Emma, my -”

“Girlfriend?!” Friend! He was going to say friend! Fuck! What if Emma bolts? Emma and Killian both blushed furiously. “You know Jim and I were just saying that it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone.”

Killian cleared his throat, scratching behind his ear, clearly flustered. Emma, who was still slightly able to form a semi-cohesive thought interjected. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs . . .?”

“Oh sweetie just call me Angela. He’s a special one you know?” She jabbed Killian in the chest playfully.

Emma smiled up at Killian. “Yeah. I know.” Killian grinned back at her.

Angela noticed their attention was clearly on eachother. “Well I’ll leave you two to enjoy your evening. Just holler if you need anything!” With that they were alone again and Killian reclaimed his seat across from Emma who was giggling.

“She seems lovely.” Emma noted.

“Aye, she is. Sorry about the whole -”

There were two ways this conversation could go. Emma could play it safe or she could take a risk.

“Oh it’s fine. Although my real boyfriend would probably be quite upset to hear that I kinda liked the sound of it.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at her and leaned in closer to her. “Well, Swan, you could tell your other boyfriend that when I win your heart, and I will win your heart, it will be because you want me more than you’ve ever wanted someone before.” His voice had dropped to a place reserved for only the most erotic utterings. He smirked at her and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. Emma swallowed hard. Killian’s words sent a shiver up her spine and her heart into a frenzy. They sat in silence for a moment, eyes locked on each other as if time had stood still while Emma sat there, needing a minute to process his words, his voice, his eyes.

“So your grandmother is in Belize?” Emma asked, eventually.

Killian chuckled, settling back into his seat. “Aye. She’s an archeologist. She spends most of her time in Central and South America, especially since my grandfather passed.”

“And your parents?”

“My mother, Alice, left when I was 5. She drove us to school to drop us off one day and then never came back. My father,” Killian sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “my father was a complicated man. I don’t blame Mum for leaving the way she did. He owned a pawn shop in Dublin that his grandfather had opened but I think he secretly hated it. He was drunk more often than not. He died when I was 19.”

Emma gave him a look, a look that, all at once, said I get it , and I’m sorry , and neither of us ever have to be alone again . She reached out and tenderly touched his hand, brushing her fingertips over his knuckles. Emma wondered if his death was why Killian never finished at Oxford, but something about the way he spoke about his father made her think there was more to that story that he seemed relieved to avoid. Their moment was interrupted by the waiter bringing them their food.

The conversation flowed easily over dinner. Killian told her he was intending to major in fine arts, he told stories about him and his brother, Liam, and the antics they got into during summers at the lake house, and about sailing with his grandfather. Emma told him about the book she was reading, a beautiful fiction novel about a pandemic and those who survived and those who didn’t and how a traveling group of musicians and actors kept the arts alive with concerts and Shakespeare plays called Station Eleven , which led her to telling him about her love of Shakespeare.

“So do you have any spring break plans at all, Swan?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a few dates with McDreamy lined up and a growing pile of library books stacking up on my floor. What about you? I imagine business will be pretty slow this week.”

Killian finished his glass of wine. “Aye, it’s always pretty slow during breaks. I was planning on leaving Will in charge for the week and escaping to the lake house.”

“That sounds like a nice break.” Emma noted.

An idea popped into Killian’s head. “I wouldn’t mind your company if you’re looking for a change of scenery.”

“Really?” Emma asked, sounding a little more hopeful and excited than she had planned.

Killian chuckled. “Aye. I think you’ve had a rough few weeks and have earned a bit of a break. Plus I quite miss having you in my bed.”

“Hm. A tempting offer. But will there be grilled cheese?”

“Aye, love. Whatever you want.”

“And ice cream?”

“Swan, we can go to the store once we’re done here and I will get you anything your heart desires.”

Now it was her turn to make him blush. “Anything?” She gave him a very insinuating look from across the table.

Killian leaned forward again, enjoying this game of flirting. “ Anything your heart desires.”

***

Quickly, Killian paid the bill and they made their way over to the supermarket. Emma, to his dismay, tossed in every unhealthy thing she could find, including a box of brownie mix that she insisted they bake to have with the vanilla ice cream that would inevitably be tossed in the cart. All he could do was laugh and watch her. She was like a kid in a candy store who never once let go of the rose he gave her.

Killian had seen Emma at her lowest point, watched her go to war with herself over what happened to her, watched her suffer for weeks while attempting to study for exams he knew were causing her stress. He knew she wasn’t sleeping because she’d send him random texts at all hours of the night. He figured it helped her feel less alone so when he woke up every morning, he replied to every single one, no matter how silly or ridiculous or sometimes incohesive it was.

This Emma, happy, free, with a light that radiated from every inch of her and filled even the darkest parts of him, was the Emma he wanted always to remember, the Emma he wanted to spend his days trying to bring out.

While she debated which PopTarts she wanted, Killian slipped away to run to the pharmacy section. Not that he expected anything, but he picked up a package of condoms. A gentleman is always prepared , he told himself. Oh who are you kidding, you want this way more than you should .

Killian returned to find Emma stuck deciding between two flavors of PopTarts and shoved the box into the cart before she could see them. The last thing he wanted was to think he invited her just so he could have sex with her. Really, Killian would be fine with spending the entire week watching Netflix with her in his arms. And apparently baking brownies to have with vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream and who knows what else.

“Just get them both before you give yourself a headache,” he joked. Emma tossed both boxes in. This woman is going to cost you a fortune . She gave him a bright smile and kissed him. In the middle of the aisle. Not caring for a second who saw them.

“Thank you. For everything, Killian,” she said when she finally pulled back, leaving Killian breathless.

And she was worth every damn penny.

***

Killian pulled into a long driveway leading to a beautiful home right on the lake. It had to be at least 2 acres of property from what Emma could tell in the dark. The house was pretty far from any neighbors and the trees lining the edge of the property on either side hid any evidence that other people even existed. It was perfect and exactly what Emma needed. They grabbed a bag of groceries each and headed inside. The first thing Emma did was ask Killian to put her rose in some water for her.

From the entrance you could see all the way to the back of the house which was essentially just a wall of windows. In the living room there was a large overstuffed couch in front of a fireplace and a large TV fit for the best kinds of movie nights snuggled in front of the fire. As tempting as it was to jump on the couch they still had bags to bring in. Emma might have gone a little overboard on the snacks.

“Do you think we have enough chips?” Killian joked, putting the third bag bag of chips in the panty while Emma unpacked bags on the island. He suddenly realized that he completely forgot what bag -

“Think we have enough condoms?” Emma joked back. She found the box he so slyly tried to hide from her while unpacking a bag containing a ridiculous amount of candy for the movie nights they planned on having.

Killian froze, blushing so furiously even the tips of his ears were red. Emma broke out in hysterical laughter. This was quite literally the last thing she had ever expected would embarrass Killian, the king of flirting, the master of inappropriate comments, the professional smoothtalker, the dreamy bartender who had girls fawning over him constantly, with a voice that could, quite literally, get any girl to drop their pants for him.

“I’m glad you find this so funny.” He looked at anything except her, scratching behind his ear.

“This is just so not you, Jones,” she said, pulling herself together. “Well actually this -” she waved the box “is you. Trying to slyly slip them in without me noticing is definitely you. The blushing though!”

Killian snatched the box from her. “A gentleman is always prepared, Swan.”

Emma stepped towards him, slinking her arms around his waist. “Very smooth, Jones.”

He tossed the box onto the island and wrapped his arms around her. “I didn’t want to -”

“I know.”

“We don’t have to do anything.”

Emma’s hands slid up Killian’s chest to rest on his shoulders. “What if I want to?”

“Then I’d be quite happy to oblige your desires, Swan,” he purred.

“When did you even get these?”

“During the great PopTart debate of 2020.”

Emma chuckled. “Right.”  Her hands ran along the collar of his shirt, her eyes avoiding his. “There’s something you should know.”

“About PopTarts?” Killian asked, confused.

“No, you idiot.” Emma took a breath, her hands again resting on his shoulders as she tried to calm the nerves causing her heart to beat faster, trying to find the words to tell the obviously experienced man standing in front of her that she was a virgin, that she, quite literally, had no idea what she was doing. But god , she wanted him. All Emma could think about was the way he kissed, the way his hands felt on her hips when they danced. “No one’s ever taken me on a date before. So if this is going where I’m hoping it’s going you’ll be my first.”

Killian’s heart broke for her. How could someone so beautiful, intelligent, strong, funny, kind, and lovely never have experienced what it feels like to be loved, to be cherished, to be adored? All he wanted to do was show her that.

He kissed her softly. “Come with me.” Killian whispered against her lips before pulling away. He took her hand, making sure to grab the box that started this, and led her up the stairs to the master bedroom he had taken over when his grandmother gave him the run of the house.

With each step, anticipation bubbled in Emma’s stomach. It was a spacious room, with doors leading to a balcony that overlooked the lake, a king-sized bed, and a door that led to the master bathroom. As much as she had touched herself reading illicit stories on the internet or watching porn sites or, recently, thinking about Killian, nothing could have prepared her for the look in Killian’s eyes as he closed the door behind them, tossed the box onto the nightstand.

His hands traveled down her arms before he kissed her deeply. Emma’s fingers worked at the buttons of his vest, eventually sliding it off his shoulders. Killian’s lips traveled down her neck, his stubble softly tickling her. She sighed when his lips found her pulsepoint, tiling her head back as her hands found the hair at the nape of his neck.

Killian slowly unzipped her dress, kissing her shoulder as it dropped to the floor, leaving Emma standing before him in nothing but her heels, white lace bra and matching panties. “Emma,” he whispered, taking her in. His hands roamed her back while his lips returned passionately to hers.

Emma’s entire body was buzzing, lit on fire from Killian’s kisses. Quickly, she undid the buttons on his dress shirt as he walked her backwards towards the bed. She smiled against his lips when her head hit the pillow. Her fingers danced their way down his spine. Killian trailed kisses down her body, kneeling before her on the bed as he took her shoes off. Emma moaned. “Fuck that feels goos. Those were killing my feet.”

Killian chuckled, settling back between her legs. “You can tell me to stop at any time, Emma.”

“Can you please stop wearing pants?” She teased, toying with the waistband of his dress pants.

He kissed her before standing to remove his shoes, socks, belt and pants. Emma missed the heat of his body on top of her. In the time it took him to strip down to his boxers, Emma had gotten into her own head.

What if I’m not good enough?

What if I do something wrong?

What if it hurts?

What if I’m not exciting enough for him?

What if I’m too loud?

What if I’m not loud enough?

What if he doesn’t enjoy it?

Emma was so stuck in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Killian was again on top of her, bra now off and on the floor until he pulled her out of her thoughts. “Emma?” His face was inches from her breast. He could tell she was wrapped in her own thoughts.

“Huh?” She realized she had completely zoned out into her own thoughts.

“Are you nervous?” Killian asked her, laying on his side next to her, his arousal pressing against her thigh.”

Emma turned her head to look at him. “Yes,” she whispered. His fingers danced over the soft skin of her stomach.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Her hand touched his cheek, reassuring him that she wanted this, that she wanted him .

He turned to kiss her palm. “Don’t overthink it. Just focus on me. Focus on my voice. Let yourself go for me, love.” Killian’s voice dropped. “Let me make you feel good.”

Emma’s heart was racing. She nodded, taking a deep breath. His hand gently cupped her breast, massaging gently.

“You’re so beautiful, Emma,” Killian said, nearly moaning at how soft her skin felt in his hand. He lowered his lips to take her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Emma’s hands tangled themselves in his hair.

“God I’ve dreamed about this.” Emma admitted, moaning softly. Killian grazed his fingers over the waistband of her panties, smirking against her skin.

“Swan, you have no idea.” Most of Killian’s nights ended with thoughts of Emma and all the wonderful things he wanted to do to her, do with her. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the day you came into the Jolly with a fucking textbook.” His hand slipped below the waistband, his fingers sliding teasingly over her wet folds. Emma gasped. “You’re already so wet for me, love.”

“Just for you,” Emma moaned, arching her back as Killian’s finger brushed across her clit. Slowly he teased light circles over her, quickening his pace whenever she moaned for him. “Killian. . .”

The way she moaned his name nearly drove Killian into a frenzy. “Tell me what you want, Emma,” he purred against her ear.

“You . . . inside,” Emma breathed.

“We’ll get there, my love.” Killian chuckled, capturing her lips with his, their tongues crashing together in a messy, delicious dance. He slipped a finger inside her, eliciting a groan from Emma. He ground his hips against her thigh, needing to relieve some of the pressure building in his cock. Emma’s hand snaked between them. Cautiously, she stroked him over the soft material of his boxers. Killian groaned against her mouth. “Fuck, Emma.”

He wanted to tell her not to worry about him, that this was about her, but the nights he spent thinking about how she would touch him made this first moment too much for him to form a comprehensive sentence. Killian gasped at the feeling of her hand slipping beneath his waistband and wrapping around him. In response he slipped a second finger into her, pumping in and out a little faster.

Emma’s head was spinning with the intoxicating sensations racing through her body. She stroked her hand over Killina’s full length until she could take it any longer. “Fuck, Killian-” she moaned. “So close.”

“Come for me, Emma,” he growled, thumb finding her clit to help her over the edge. Emma fell apart, her orgasm coming in waves over her as she cried out Killian’s name into the darkness of the room, pleasure possessing every inch of her body.

When she finally opened her eyes again, she saw Killian watching her and blushed furiously. “Hi.” She gave him a shy smile.

He smiled back at her. “Hi.”

Emma kissed him, softly at first and more passionately as she started to come back to herself. “I want you.”

“Emma . . .” Killian hesitated, wanting to make sure this was really what she wanted. And god did he hope it was what she wanted.

“Please.”

He reached for the box on the nightstand, rolling onto his back next to her. Emma watched as he opened the box to pull out a foil packet. His hair was a mess, sticking out in different directions and falling onto his forehead, and somehow he looked sexier than when he had every strand in place to match the very put together look of his vest and dress pants. His breathing was slightly labored with anticipation. He had a tattoo of an anchor on the top of his arm by his shoulder.

Killian lifted his hips to push his boxers off and Emma’s breath caught in her throat. Killian noticed Emma’s staring and raised an eyebrow, smirking at her. “See something you like, Swan?”

Emma’s face turned bright red. “Maybe.”

Killian kissed her quickly before returning his attention to the foil package. He carefully tore it open and rolled the condom down his length while Emma pulled her panties off, tossing them to the floor. Killian settled between her legs, resting on his forearms to keep his weight from crushing her beneath him. Her arms wrapped around him holding him close to her.

In that moment, the rush of passion, the unbearable heat between them slowly dissipated into a loving tenderness, a gentle caress of warmth surrounding them.  

“Go slow,” Emma whispered, a soft encouragement for Killian not to stop.

“Aye, my love.” His hand reached between them, guiding himself into her slowly. Emma hissed slightly, her nails digging into Killian’s back. Immediately he stilled. “Emma?”

“Don’t stop.”

So he didn’t. He pushed in slowly until he was fully sheathed, whispered profanities falling from his lips. Killian dropped his head, placing a sensual kiss to Emma’s shoulder. “How are you?”

Weird. Full. Stretched. Those were the first words that came to Emma’s mind. She needed a second to gather her thoughts. Killian had the self control of a saint at that moment. He gave her the time, the silence, she needed, playing with the ends of the long, blond hair (really to distract himself from the desire to pull his hips back and push back into her because fuck she felt incredible).

When she adjusted to his length: Good. So good. More.  

“Killian,” Emma whispered against his shoulder, “you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Emma.” Killian groaned, pulling his hips back slowly before pushing back into her. Emma let her eyes close. Her hands knotted in his hair, keeping him close to her. “You feel incredible.”

She moaned softly in response and Killian picked up his pace, pushing into her a little faster, a little harder. “Yes. Killian.”

Killian muttered profanities that could make any sailor blush, his self control slipping from his grasp. He kept a steady pace, not too slow, not too fast, hitting her in just the right spot over and over. Nothing compared to the feeling of Killian inside her, the way his hips rolled effortlessly against hers, the way his lips moved against her shoulder and her neck as he whispered dirty nothings to her, edging her on.

“Emma, god I can’t-” Killian moaned against her. “I’m gonna -”

She used his words against him. “Come for me, Killian.”

And with that he came undone above her, coming with a cry of her name and nearly collapsing on top of her as his orgasm shook his entire body. Emma’s hips rolled against his, working him through it, working him down. Her hands softly stroked his hair, now slightly damp with sweat.

He slowly pulled out, kissing her forehead softly, allowing his lips to linger there for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

Emma whimpered at the loss of his weight on her, comforting like a weighted blanket. It wasn’t long before he came back from the master bathroom, condom discarded and a warm, damp washcloth in hand that he used to gently clean between her legs. Emma signed softly at the pleasant contact. He tossed the cloth into the laundry bin and settled back into bed next to Emma who turned on her side to face him, cuddling close.

“How are you?” Killian asked.

“Wonderful.” Emma admitted, relaxing against him. Her thoughts began to intrude on the moment. “Did you. . . Did you like it?”

Killian nearly scoffed. “I should be asking you that!”

“I asked first.” Emma teased. This was easy. This was them. Silly bantering. Caring words.

He chuckled, playing with her hair, nuzzling his nose against hers. “How could I not like it? It was with you.” Emma blushed.  “Now you have to answer.”

Emma shrugged. “Eh. It was fine,” she toyed.

Killian’s jaw dropped. “You little minx.” Emma broke into a fit of giggles and he playfully swatted at her ass. “You take that back!”

She kissed him, playfully, smiling against his lips. “Yes. It was -” She paused.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s silly.”

“Tell me.”

“It was almost as good as my dreams,” she admitted, partially teasing him, mostly being sincere.

He grinned. “Glad to hear I wasn’t the only one dreaming of this.”

They took turns showering. Emma was exhausted and, honestly, not quite up for round two just yet so Killian gave her some space. When she was done, she changed into her pajamas and pulled out her glasses and Station Eleven to read while waiting for Killian to return to bed.

“Glasses suit you, love.” Killian commented when he emerged from his shower in nothing but a towel.

Emma smirked, half hearing him while she was engrossed in her book. “A towel suits you.”

Killian chuckled, pulling out pajamas from the dresser. “You haven’t looked up for a second.”

“Shhhhhh. Two characters just disappeared. I need to know what happens.”            

He pulled on his pajamas before collapsing on the bed next to her. Killian watched her for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration behind her glasses. She was beautiful. Always. She was beautiful when she was dressed for work, when she was dressed for a night out with her friends, when she was lost in concentration, when she was frustrated, when her hair was damp and she was getting ready for bed, when she was dolled up for a date, when she was nervous, when she was confident, when she was teasing him, when she was vulnerable with him, when she was exhausted, when she was dancing in the middle of the aisle in the supermarket.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Her said softly, almost to himself as he traces patterns absentmindedly on her thigh over her pajama bottoms.

Emma looked down from her book at him lying next to her. She closed the book, marking her space with a torn piece of paper she was using as a make-shift bookmark, before turning the light off and settling down next to him, her nose inches from his. “I’m glad you invited me. I really did need a break.”

“Aye, I know love,” he said before kissing her softly.

“Thank you, by the way. Dinner was lovely.”  

“It was my pleasure, Swan.”

Emma rolled onto her other side, her back pressed against Killian’s chest. She held his arm close against her as their legs tangled together in a way that was nearly impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began.   “Goodnight, Killian,” she whispered softly, her eyes fluttering close as exhaustion began to take over her.

Killian breathed in the comforting scent of her lavender shampoo. “Goodnight, my love.”                                                                                                        

That was the first time Emma had slept through the night since the incident. Warm and safe in Killian’s arms, she never wanted to leave.

[doctorgerth]

On Sauerkraut and Stairs

Written by: @feminist-zoro

Pseudo name: Basilisa Title: On Sauerkraut and Stairs Characters: Blackleg Sanji, Nico Robin, Trafalgar Law, Roronoa Zoro Chosen word: Drunk Fic type: humor, (kind of) domestic pirate life Warnings: cursing, weird food, drunk people being drunk

Although he would rather die than admit it, Sanji really wasn’t much of a drinker. It wasn’t a big problem since he was usually too busy providing food during parties - but from time to time the crew stumbled upon groups that were interested in getting wasted more than anything else. The Heart Pirates were – as weird as it sounds – such a group and every meeting with them had ended badly for poor Sanji and for his even poorer head. It was like they were compensating for their captain’s seriousness and strictness. The Heart Pirates had been using the opportunity of meeting the Straw Hats to its fullest and had been always dropping a heavy drinking tempo, one that even Zoro couldn’t keep up with. This time wasn’t any different and Sanji quickly found himself blabbering and stumbling, with the night still young and both crews still eager to empty all the barrels. As he was still able to control himself, he decided to withdraw for a while, with an excuse of looking for a restroom. 

He intended to head straight to the men’s quarters and dive into his bed, but he sensed someone’s presence on the deck. Well, so much for sleeping. He really couldn’t show that drunk weakness of his now, when someone had spotted him. Especially, if that person was precious Robin-chan, enjoying her book in the light of deck’s lamp and wrapped in a cute blanket.

“Robin-chwaaan~”, Sanji rushed towards her, swirling up the gangway. He tripped midway and almost fell, but Robin caught him in time.

“Sanji, are you alright?” her eyes showed concern as she smiled at him so gently and lovely as only she could smile (Sanji would definitely melt right away, but the world was still circling around him and he wasn’t fully sure what was going on). She held on to him and didn’t withdraw with her Devil Fruit ability until Sanji stood firmly on the deck and stopped looking like he’s just about to faint.

“Of course I am”, he huffed a bit more harshly than he usually talked to women, but almost immediately turned back to his silly self, eyes shining, and cheeks covered in vivid blush. “My amazing Robin-chan is so strong and beautiful! I was blessed with this wonderful rescue!”

“I’m being serious here, Sanji”, she gave him a piercing look and it knocked all ideas and resistance out of his drunk mind. “Are you really alright?”

“… I might have overdone the booze a bit.”

“Oh my”, she couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath seeing Sanji making a face of a kid caught on stealing candies. “They went too hard on you, didn’t they? My poor cook.”

Sanji just whined , “I’ll be so dead tomorrow. And this wild bunch of animals will demand a special hangover breakfast, I’m sure of it.”

“Judging by their tempo, I doubt anyone besides Zoro and Luffy will show up anywhere near food in the close future.”

“Those two alone are enough to kill me.”

Robin laughed aloud, not even bothering to cover her mouth with a hand. She stretched under blankets around her and massaged her stiff nape.

“Would you be so kind and tell Law to bring a cup of coffee for me too?”

“Everything for you, Robin-chwaaa- wait”, Sanji was already half up the stairs when he realized what exactly Robin had said to him. “Tra-guy is here?”

“He said he needed some caffeine, so he should be in the kitchen?” she pointed, but Sanji was already gone, only some muffled swears audible from distance.

Trafalgar Law was indeed in the kitchen, half buried in Sanji’s precious fridge. It took a lot of willpower for Sanji to not kick his butt to teach him a lesson on raiding the allies’ food supplies.

“Has no one told you it’s a dick move to touch other people’s stuff without permission?”, he teased him instead. “Especially if there’s a padlock on it?”

Law turned to him and gazed straight into his eyes as he continued devouring a slice of cheese. He had his pockets stuffed with – as Sanji suspected – the dainties hidden for special meals for Nami and Robin and held a jar of Nami’s hand-made tangerines in syrup. Sanji could feel his anger boiling as the Heart Pirates captain reached for another treat, a slice of ham this time, and – without breaking eye contact – slowly consumed it whole.

Sanji would really kick him for this but the world made a move against him and started swirling around again. He had to grip a counter to prevent an embarrassing fall on his ass. Law looked like he was about to interfere but with one deeper breath he realized it’s not an illness, but just the result of rum and sake.

“Blackleg-ya, you better go to sleep.” He patted Sanji’s shoulder in an awkward attempt of showing sympathy and continued with looting the kitchen. Sanji didn’t really feel like stopping him anymore, just observing him with eyes half opened, so the world wouldn’t dance anymore.

“If you’re looking for something for Robin-chan, then give her cookies with that coffee”, he suggested as Law finally got his hands on the coffee maker. “No sugar nor cream, by the way. And candies are in the storage.”

He threw him a key, missing a good foot in distance. Law immediately roomed it right into his hands, giving Sanji a disapproving look. Yeah, it was definitely time to do something about this spinning. Sanji hummed to himself some old song he randomly recalled, trying to find in the mess of his head some kind of solution. What would the old geezer tell him to do? The answer was so obvious it made Sanji laugh and almost loose his balance when he rushed to execute the idea.

In the corner of the kitchen there was that one specific barrel, which Sanji had never let anyone touch. It was full of high-quality sauerkraut he had been storing for a rainy day. The good, old (but smelly as heck and hard to feed Luffy a dose of) life-saving treat had been with the Strawhats in all dark hours, when Nami’s trees hadn’t been bearing fruit and they were out of other citruses. Sanji thought he could never be its bigger fan than he had already been – until now, as he remembered the magical feature of its juice, the real-life antidote against alcohol. The taste maybe wasn’t the best but the result? Sanji almost cried due to happiness of saving himself from a long and painful process of sobering and surviving the hangover.

Law, though, was far away from happy when he caught him gathering the juice into a cup straight from the barrel and gulping on it like on fresh, cold water. He couldn’t even look straight into Sanji’s face as he gave him the key back, “Blackleg-ya, you don’t need to be that disgusting in public.”

 “You’re the one who got his ass into my kitchen”, Sanji, teasingly, took a long and loud sip. “Shoo, get lost.”

Law looked like he was about to return the late-night snacks. He grabbed the coffeepot and cups and almost bolted out, murmuring some lame excuse under his nose. Sanji celebrated his little win with the last full cup of sauerkraut blessing.

“Robin-chwaaaan, I’m going to use the bathroom~” Then he glanced over the deck, finding his beautiful archeologist and the traumatized surgeon enjoying their coffee and relaxing on the lawn. “Wanna have a bath with me?~”

“I’ll pass but enjoy your time.” Robin sent him her cute, precious smile and he almost melted again.

“You sure you gonna make it up there, Blackleg-ya?” Law still didn’t dare to look straight at his face after their little encounter – or at least Sanji couldn’t tell it from the distance. “You’re drunk as a skunk – and I’m not putting you together, if you fall from there.”

Sanji flipped the bird at him and firmly made his way on the top level. He could feel Robin’s concerned gaze on his back, so he obviously couldn’t fail right now. There’s no way he could make her worried, not his precious Robin-chan! And with the power of sauerkraut behind him, nothing could possibly knock him dead.

He, indeed, won the fight with the stairs – but wasn’t expecting the bathroom door being slammed open for him. It alone almost made him jump but…

“DAVY FUCKING JONES!”, he screamed in pure horror as a weird creature came out, slouching and lurching towards him. He could swear it had multiple limbs and at least two heads. Sanji jumped back, way too far, as he soon learned, leaning over a railing. And, finally, falling headfirst down on the deck.

Robin and Law both acted on reflex, clashing their activated Devil Fruit abilities as a result. The upper part of Sanji’s body was held firmly by Robin’s hands and he could see his legs flying away in the opposite direction, carried by the Law’s power. Someone – maybe even he himself – cursed like an old sailor, something was thrown on the deck and been rolling while making weird noises. The terrifying creature on the top level glanced over the broken railing as Robin put half-conscious Sanji’s part on the lawn.

“Is he finally dead?”, it asked, revealing itself as Roronoa Zoro; very confused and heavily drunk as well – but definitely pleased at a sight of what he had done. The extra limbs Sanji saw were nothing more than his three swords, moved for some reason on the shoulder instead of hip. The ‘second head’ was meanwhile a huge pitcher full of delicious sake. Zoro drank straight from it, almost chocking on the drink and his own laugh.

“You could have killed him, you idiot”, Law scolded him. Together with Robin he tried to put Sanji back together into one piece, what, obviously, wasn’t that easy. The cook was resisting, kicking like mad and turning his torso around in nothing but a pure drunk panic. Robin had to sit on his chest and pin him down, so Law could room the rest back on its place without any other fail.

“Like hell I was expecting him to walk into the bathroom in the middle of a night party”, the main offender didn’t even try to hide a mischievous grin. “Need any help with knocking him out?”

Robin gave him a warning frown, “You rocked the boat enough”. Her serious poker face broke a bit and even Zoro didn’t want to see her really pissed.

“I’ll carry him to the quarters then”, he proposed almost apologetically and rushed down the stairs.

“You better watch yourself; you are wasted and…” Zoro didn’t even let Nico Robin end her sentence as he slipped and drove down the stairs on his ass.

Law just groaned and facepalmed, “Now you know why I don’t let my people drink, Nico-ya”.

When later asked by Chopper how on Earth he got splinters in his butt cheeks, Zoro honestly couldn’t remember anything and Robin, when asked, just made a weird face, suggesting she wouldn’t answer any questions even under torture. So no one asked, including Sanji who’s memories ended very vaguely on seeing something weird in the bathroom. But when you live on the one ship with a living skeleton, humanized reindeer and a dude made of rubber, you quickly learn to exclude the word ‘weird’ from your dictionary.

The barrel of sauerkraut became the only victim of the night. It got ejected into the back of the storeroom and covered with a few layers of rugs. For some unknown reason, Sanji developed a strong disgust towards its smell and taste.

“I would rather die on scurvy than touch this shit”, he claimed, much to Luffy’s happiness.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Family Fights - chapter One

Summary: Even the strongest bond, the most loving family, can be broken by nightmares, and the librarian is soon to learn this. As she learns sinister things about a person who she had thought was lost forever, she realizes she will need the help of another witch to get her family back.

Notes: This is a repost. When I re read the first chapters of this fic to write the third, I realized that it was packed with grammatical errors and that the pacing was terrible. Unfortunately, I can’t (or at least i don’t know how to) edit posted chapters on ao3, but I can at least re-post a slightly better version of the chapters here.

Also, the images I used for the header are from Pinterest.

As soon as she heard those children speaking, Maven knew what they needed. Why of course she did. How could she not? How could she not recognize the creatures who had taken the person she loved the most from her at the mere mention of them? So she threw them the book. Obviously, she knew exactly where it was, having read it so many times. She schooled her features to look like a welcoming smile instead of a triumphant grin like she wanted. <em>She would finally find her,</em> Maven though as she let the ladder slide through the rows of books. That new girl, Hilda, she was a peculiar one. Always seemed to find a way to get herself in trouble. She was a kind person, it seemed, making friends with two of the greatest misfits in town. Maven always saw them alone, so she was pretty relieved to see they had made a new friend. But it wouldn’t matter if Hilda was the most awful kid in Trollberg. Because tonight, she’d be helping Maven find Myra. Tonight, she’d be helping Maven find her sister.

She kept a close eye to the trio, not daring to go too far away from them. She could continue shelving books later, she thought. Not soon after she gave them the book, she saw them leaving, and her heart began beating louder on her chest. After making sure there were no other patrons at the library, which was a depressingly common occurrence, she changed the cape she favored while in the library for a black coat, pulling the hoodie over her face. When she locked the building, she could still see the three kids turning around the corner. She quickened her pace, knowing her best chance to find her sister was following the loathsome creature the children were hopefully leading her to. Her heart beat wildly on her chest, but her steps were as quiet as the breeze messing with her short hair. She had planned to dye it again tonight, the purple beginning to show at the roots again, but that would have to wait. When Maven turned into Robin Street, she saw the children entering a corner house she could remember passing by during her midnight wanderings around the town. Ah, so that’s where the victim lived. Maven took her time memorizing where she was, before running back to the library. No use in just waiting there until dusk, and she didn’t want to put her beloved job at risk. When she arrived at the old building once more, she threw herself on the chair behind the circulation desk, and smiled though still panting from the run. Just a few more hours, she thought. _#_#_#_

The time seemed to drag itself. Three hours had never seemed so long. With each minute, her anxiety got stronger, messing with her mind until she couldn’t even concentrate in her books. But finally, finally the time came. She locked the library with shaking hands, beads of sweat forming on her brow despite the chilly night, and she made her way as quickly as she could to the house. Everything was silent when she arrived at the place, so she settled herself under a tree at the other side of the street, the best spot to see what was happening and going by unnoticed at the same time. As the moon rose in the sky, she let her mind wander to the time when she was a teen and her sister an innocent child. The time when they’d help their mother cast spells together, the time when Maven taught her how to cleanse her crystals and the whole family would do rituals under the same moon she was under now. The time where her sister didn’t think witches were freaks, that they were weak for avoiding doing harm, that she disowned the family traditions, seeking to be more powerful than they’d ever allow her. Before tears could begin running down Maven’s pale face, the sound of a car took her away from her thoughts. It parked in front of the house she had been watching, and she observed with interest as Johanna, a very kind and smart woman she had met by chance at a coffee shop not long before, got out of the vehicle not with her daughter, but with the boy she’d thought she’d been watching. Her legs itched to get into the house and try to understand what the hell was going on, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t left to her  agony for long, however, as just a few minutes later, a thick green smoke flew through the front door’s key hole. Maven was on her feet immediately, running after the green cloud for all she was worth. She ran through block after block, her breathing loud to her own ears. When finally she reached the gates to the Huldrawoods, she lifted her fingers to the lock and muttered a simple enchantment, the iron giving away to her magic smoothly. She thanked every deity she knew of when she entered and the cloud of smoke was still visible, even in the dark of night and cover of the woods. She’d searched through every last inch of that forest, and now knew that, without being guided by one of them, she’d never find the place where the Marra met. She usually tried to keep the spell using to a minimum, her mother having been very persistent in highlighting that magic always ate away at your energy, but any price was worth finding her sister, so she muttered yet another enchantment under her breath and suddenly her steps were soundless. A smile ,albeit a nervous one, adorned her lips when a flash of green lights reached her eyes though the trees, and the closer she got, the better she could see a camping-like formation: a few logs had been put around a fire, and girls sat on top of them. “And then, the bike began riding itself! And the stupid girl couldn’t control it! Her face was hilarious when her friends rode away from her, mocking her!” A high pitched voice said, and the whole circle laughed. Maven covered her mouth so they wouldn’t hear her gasp. As they laughed, their eyes became green, and between the sea of cruel features, she found an all too familiar face. Her straight, light violet hair had been dyed completely black, her long fringe being partially held by a barrette. She was wearing the same denim coat with cotton in the neckline as the day she’d been abducted, the day Maven though she’d lost a piece of her heart she’d never recover again. And she didn’t look like a prisoner. She wasn’t bound by her wrists, forced to listen to the Marra’s perverted acts against her will, or being a guinea pig for new scarring tactics.

She hadn’t been taken because she’d grown bitter and those horrid beings saw her as a perfect victim, Maven realized, baring her teeth in anger.

She had been taken because, in her bitterness, sister had become one of them.

Maven stood up abruptly, making the bush she was hiding behind shake and attracting of the attention of the whole group to herself. But it wouldn’t matter if she had a bloody troll threatening her in that moment. In that moment, she would have a conversation with her sister.

“Myra Underhill” Maven all but hissed as all of the freaky teenagers gasped at the sight of the intruder, and Myra became even more pale than usual as every gaze fell on her. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

The initial shock at the appearance of her older sister washed away from her face, as she let the Marra persona dominate her once more, lifting her confidence. “I don’t go by that surname anymore. I don’t go by any surname, in fact.” She smiled mockingly.

It didn’t take a witch to feel the anger burning inside Maven. Two years. Two years she thought her sister had been abducted. Two years she thought she had failed in her promise to her father to protect her sister. One year their mother had left her for good, leaving her to think she was alone in the world.

And Myra didn’t even care.

“That’s not how family works, sweetie” She said with a loathing in the old endearment. “You can’t just throw it away when you decide you’re too good for them.”

When Myra opened her mouth to speak, the other Marra, who had been telling the story before the interruption decided to come into the conversation. “And who would you be, exactly?” She said with mocking sympathy. “And what on Earth is up with you? You look like a witch!” She laughed in disdain.

Maven stood her ground. “I’m Myra’s sister.” She looked at her old best friend in the eye, making sure she’d feel the next sentence on her soul. “Or at least I used to be. And to your information, yes, I am a witch. And unlike that treacherous viper, I’m proud of it.”

More gasps of surprise. “You’re a witch?” The girl sitting next to Myra, one with short caramel hair and round glasses cried.

“N-no, of course I’m not! They’re pathetic! I- I mean, I was born a witch, but they are just too boring and weak, and that’s why I left them!” She tried to explain nervously.

“Well, in that case” the first girl, with two ridiculous blond piggy tails, who seemed to be the leader of the group got up. “You are threatening one of ours. Leave immediately-“ she stood face to face - or the closest she could get to that, being so much shorter than the librarian - to Maven, looking as scary as she could in her teenager form. “Or face the consequences.”

“I am NOT leaving without my sister!”

The infuriating girl raised one blond eyebrow. “That’s what we’ll see.”

Something hard hit Maven’s neck from behind. And as the world got darker, and the floor got closer, she could not resist succumbing into a deep sleep.

[astoria00]

A Sun seeks DAY

Get out of my way Freak!

I wasn’t anywhere near you!’

It’s your fault the deal fell flat.

 They didn’t even know about me!’

 I never wanted a kid in the first place.

 ‘Would it make a difference if I was born ‘normal’?

  Neo hated waking up from that accursed dream.

Since Roman’s death it constantly plagued her. Her peace of mind seemingly lost forever by his sudden demise…and she only had herself to blame.

If she hadn’t taken Ruby lightly, if she had stayed on top of the ship, she could have stopped her dear friend’s cruel fate.

But she had thought they would be alright…just like always.

There was no way they were in any real danger.

They chose the winning side…

 And now Roman was gone forever.

 It boggled her how thinking about him still hurt so much.

Time healed all wounds?

What a joke.

 Stretching her tense legs a bit, she shivered at the cold creeping up her feet.

This was the last time she let Cinder chose where they would spend the night.

The cave might have been a more…low profile friendly option, but Neo was tired of freezing all the time.

 ‘Don’t have those fancy powers keeping me warm.’

 The short girl had always had some sort of inkling that their new partner was a bit more special than she had let on, but the existence of actual magic just seemed so far removed from reality…and yet she had witnessed it with her very own eyes.

Years before Cinder had graced them with her presence.

 Now you listen to me you stupid brat!

You better not come back before you apologize for whatever you did to the Branwen tribe, you hear me?

 Shuffling her feet, Neo pulled them to her knees while sitting up, her mismatched eyes blinking through the darkness.

Cinder and her had build some sort of provisional shelter to keep the snow outside and giving them an opportunity to rest…though she couldn’t be too sure if the dark haired girl had actually gotten herself some shut eye.

Speaking of which, where was her sassy companion anyway?

 Grimacing at failing to locate her missing attire, she hobbled to the exit winding her thick blanket even tighter around her body.

 ‘Of course she’s outside.’

 Cinder seemed to have trouble to let her guard down enough to sufficiently rest.

It was something Neo observed when they had traveled to Atlas together.

There was some nervous, tense energy around her. One that felt all too familiar to the shorter girl.

A cold shudder ran down her spine, as she pulled the spare blanket they had put up along the entrance to the side and padded outside.

 ‘COLD!!!’

 So maybe running through the snow barefoot hadn’t been such a great idea after all.

But on the other hand, she also had no real motivation to turn back around to get her shoes.

Exhaling loudly, she let her eyes wander over the scenery in her attempt to spot Cinder.

Which appeared not to be as time consuming as she thought.

The dark haired girl hadn’t strayed too far from their secret hideout, lying in a puddle of fresh snow, staring up into the dark, cloudy sky, watching the snowflakes fall.

There was something strangely serene about the picture.

Neo couldn’t help but look at her companion in silent wonder.

She had never seen Cinder so…relaxed…no, that wasn’t the right word.

 ‘Vulnerable!’

 That’s it.

She had never seen her so vulnerable, so raw and open before.

Maybe it was the dim light surrounding them, as the moon was obscured by thick dark clouds, but the short girl couldn’t help but acknowledge how beautiful the other girl actually was.

Even if it was somewhat begrudgingly.

After pondering whether to leave or stay, Neo sat down next to Cinder.

 The snow was freezing, even with the blanket around her whole body.

Shivers ran done her spine, as she tried to huddle closer to her companion, finally seeming to get her attention.

 “What the-?

Do you have a death wish, girl?

What are you doing out here?”

 What is a small girl like you doing in a place like this?

  xxxxxxxxxx

  The tall boy mustered her with keen interest, his bowler looking oh so funny on his reddish hair.

She must have gotten lost on her way to the Branwen tribe’s current location after all, because that definitely wasn’t how she had envisioned a bandit to look like.

Before she could even try to explain herself though, a red, long and more importantly sharp sword was held to her head, pointing directly to a point between her eyes.

Its owner’s face was hidden behind a…grimm mask of sorts?

Only two crimson orbs glowed dangerously through the two small slits, positioned perfectly over the other person’s eyes.

She swallowed harshly.

 This wasn’t good, right?

She should have never sneaked inside this tent!

 ‘I don’t want to die!’

 “Now, now Raven.

Your loyalty and commitment to my safety are honorable, but surely you don’t believe me to be threatened by a mere child, do you?”

 Behind the masked girl appeared an older, even more imposing woman, a fur coat hanging around her shoulders, carrying the proud emblem of a lone feather.

 ‘The leader!’

 Now this was bad.

On one hand she found the leader, on the other…

 “My apologies, ma’am.”

 The sword disappeared from her view and relief washed over her, to be immediately replaced by another wave of anxious tension by the masked girl’s next words.

 “Shall I deal with this brat?”

 She didn’t like the sound of that.

And if she was being honest, she also didn’t want to find out how the bandit wanted to ‘deal’ with her.

 Not daring to move one inch, she stared at the leader in fear.

 “She’s just a kid, I’d say we have more pressing topics to talk about than deciding the fate of a poor streetrat.

Just let her go.”

 Finally the bowler wearing boy had spoken up, tipping against his hat with a grin.

The leader sighed, when Raven immediately whipped around, almost growling at him.

 “I am second in command!

You don’t give me orders!”

 The redhead’s grin widened, when he pulled out some keychain, causing the masked girl’s posture to get rigid.

 “I don’t know about that, Robin.

Maybe you’re getting soft.”

 He dangled the chain in front of her, revealing a photo of four young people, all smiling in the camera. One looked oddly similar to the masked girl, she thought.

Not that she cared.

She just wanted to get out of this alive.

 Before Raven could retort anything, the leader stepped forward, banging her hand against the table with a loud, thud, splintering the wood and causing both of the other bandits to snap to attention.

 “ENOUGH!”

 Fixing the masked girl with a pointed stare, she ripped the keychain out of the bowler wearing boy’s hand, her voice lowering dangerously.

 “We will talk about this at a later time, do you understand, Raven?”

 Nodding wordlessly, Raven didn’t make a sound. Just her clenched fists indicated how furious she must have been right now.

 “Good, and Roman”, her attention now solely laid on the redhead, “the answer is no!

I will not approve of segregation!

We are bandits, not organized crime lords.”

 “But think about-“

 “Not another word!

I gave you a home when nobody wanted you. I taught you everything you know.

Without me, you would be nothing.

Is that the extent of your gratefulness?”

 The boy lowered his head and it was in that moment that she decided to bolt.

Running and crawling as fast as she could back into the air ventilation system, only managing to catch the muffled cry of what she presumed to be Raven and the cold voice of her leader.

 “Let her go.

I won’t waste resources on catching a little brat that is of no use to us.

She hasn’t heard anything that could do us harm.”

 And still…she couldn’t stop running.

Tears streamed down her face, as she realized just how narrowly she escaped death.

A death her father had gladly sent her to…

 ‘Oh no!’

 Her father!

…he wouldn’t be pleased when she reported that she hadn’t been able to change the Branwen tribe’s mind after all.

 The cold evening wind that greeted her once she finally submerged to the surface again made her want to huddle down.

 It was so cold…

She was so tired…

She stopped completely and leaned against the wall, searching for a place to rest a bit.

Hobbling into an alleyway she ducked next to a trash container to shield herself from the freezing breeze.

 She didn’t know how long she stayed there, only that she couldn’t seem to stop crying.

 ‘Mommy…why did you leave me?’

 Because she was a freak.

Wasn’t that what her father told her all the time?

No one wanted a mute child.

 “Well, hello there Neopolitan.

You look practically frozen.”

 Startled she looked up, her eyes widening in shock.

It was Roman, the bowler wearing bandit.

She had expected dread to settle in again, but surprisingly she wasn’t as afraid as she thought she would be.

The redhead only smiled, offering his hand to her, almost as if he knew who she was…

But that couldn’t be true…right?

 “Let’s get you home and warm you up.”

  xxxxxxxxxx

  “-warm you up?”

 ‘Huh?’

 Neo blinked owlishly at the person now perched at her side.

Cinder seemed to have sat up, squinting at her incredulously.

She must have missed the question.

Cocking her head, she shrugged clueless, causing the dark haired girl to sigh exasperated.

 “I asked if you want me to warm you up.”

 Just as she was reminded of it, the cold returned full front, making her shiver noticeably under her blanket, offering a small nod to Cinder, who rolled her eye and simply held out her hand for Neo to grab on.

 A pang of sadness washed over her.

There were times when missing Roman was bearable…and then there were times she wished she could scream her pain out to the world.

When she wanted to find someone she could blame it on.

Cinder had been on the receiving end of it as well.

Her feelings for her companion were a jumbled mess.

 She hated Cinder!

And the worst was, the dark haired girl hadn’t even known why until recently.

Obsessing over getting her revenge on her had kept her going.

It had been the only thing driving her…

‘Roman’s dead and you left me!’

 And yet…

 Warmth spread through her hand as it entwined itself with Cinder’s.

 …she couldn’t help but want to keep being around her.

There was this admiration she had for the other girl.

The way her face would light up for the most ridiculous thing she deemed useful to her.

Her cunningness, her over the top attempts to sound like a crime lord…

…her golden like, gorgeous eye…

 ‘…huh?’

 Where did that come from?

 Giving Cinder a grateful smile she wrote in the snow before them.

 /Do you ever sleep?/

 The dark haired girl’s expression soured, her voice changing, adapting the short girl’s favorite uppity tone.

 “I don’t need sleep.

I am perfectly capable of reserving my energy.”

 Something cracked behind them in the distance, possibly a tree submitting to the heavy snow piled on top of it, but whatever it was, it made Cinder flinch noticeably.

 ‘…are you afraid?’

 That would probably be a bad thing to ask, though she doubted Cinder would ever be able to find some rest like this, seeing how high on alert she appeared to be.

It was time to change the game.

 /Read me a story./

 Her companion positively gaped at her.

 “Excuse me…what?”

 Pointing at the snow again the short girl wrote it out even more carefully, skillfully hiding her gleeful smile.

 /READ ME A STORY!/

 Cinder appeared at a loss for words, she was positively rattled.

It seemed to cost her immense willpower not to react to the fact that Neo had practically ordered her to do it, as she breathed in deeply.

Finding her voice again, she tried to compose herself.

 “If you hadn’t noticed, we are right out of books.”

 ‘You don’t say.’

 The short girl shrugged.

 /Guess you have to make one up then./

 Not even waiting for Cinder’s response Neo lied down on the snow, staring up at the dark sky, just as her companion had done before her.

 Befuddled Cinder stared at her, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment, as she realized Neo would probably continue to bug her to comply with her wish…

The shorter girl’s grip on her hand tightened a bit when she tried to pull her hand away.

 Neo wouldn’t let her get out of this.

 With a silent curse, Cinder surrendered and rolled on her back, glaring at the clouds.

 “Do I really have to?”

 A quick squeeze was the only affirmation she got.

 Clicking her tongue in annoyance, the dark haired girl began to search for words.

 “Fine…

Ahem, once upon a time there was…a dragon.

He was strong and feared…and powerful.

One day he encountered a little girl who was shackled by a cruel fate and he saw the potential inside her, so he took her with him…”

 ‘You have a nice voice.’

 She really meant it. It was incredibly pleasant to listen to. So much so, that Neo had to be careful not fall asleep.

Not yet at least.

 So she listened to the tale her companion spun, full of monsters and magic, thieves and wizards and, most importantly, dragons.

The sky began to tint its colors, chasing the endless dark of the night away as it slowly began to dawn…and Cinder’s voice abruptly stopped.

 Turning her head she saw that the dark haired girl’s eye was closed, her breathing even and slow.

 ‘Finally!’

 It had been so hard to not simply drift off, but now that she had managed to get Cinder her much needed rest, she felt herself fade away as well.

Robbing closer to her companion’s sleeping form she cuddled against her.

Yes, Cinder would probably never allow them being this close to each other after she stabbed her, but Neo couldn’t stand the thought to wake up alone and cold again.

 ‘Good night, Cinder.’

 In hindsight, it probably had been a bad idea to fall asleep outside of their camp.

 AN: Hello again ^^

Time for Day Two I guess…I’m probably not finishing until    Spicecreamweek is 

Over, but I’ll still do all the prompts.

Enjoy ^^

[lildevyl]

Septicscape, Chapter One: The Mad Doctor

Summary:   Jack is trapped in his own mind and something is terribly wrong! The "Corruption" is everywhere and is taking control. Now Jack, with the help of his Alter Egos, must find a way to out and regain control of his body. Before it is too late!

TW: Dark Theme, Corruption, Button Eyes, Mad Doctor/Scientist, Needles, Possession, Mentions of Blood and Mild Mutation, Depression, Quarantine, A Psychiatric like style atmosphere towards the end of the chapter, and a living doll like OC, and Mention of Non-Canon Anti, Self Doubt.

A/N:  This FanFiction is based on the fan made game called Septicscape.  I haven’t had the chance to play but I did enjoy the Let’s Play of it by @dolphintreasureart​.  It gave me the idea for this story and this is the first time that I’m doing a fanfiction based off a fan made game.  And I got little carried away so it’s a long ass chapter about 10K+ words.  Sorry.

Also, depending on the "Ending" you pick reader, this story will either be before the whole PMA (Positive Mental Attitude) movement or it will be set after PMA took off but just before Jack took his vacation.

Enjoy The Story!!!!!

Chapter 1:  The Mad Doctor

(Sean's Apartment)

“Well, that does it for this episode. And thank you guys for watching this video. If you like it. PUNCH the LIKE button in the face LIKE A BOSS! And high fives all around.  Whapoosh! Whapoosh!  And I'll see all of you dudes. In the next video!”

Jack's outro music played in the background as Jack wrapped up another video for the day. Editing has become a whole lot easier now that Robin came aboard. Jack still helps with a lot of the editing and both of them go back and forth on what they think to do for different sketches and videos. And Jack appreciates every single effort and idea Robin gives. When the video starts to render, Jack's stomach decides to make itself known.

“Okay, time to eat something,” Jack said to himself heading to the Kitchen.

On his way, Jack spots a box in his Living Room and smiled fondly. Gifts from the fans that unfortunately he hasn't had the time to open yet. Hmm, maybe that should be his next video? Opening gifts from his fans has always been a joy, so much creativity that went into each them. It never cease, to amaze Jack just how talented his fans are. Another grumble from his stomach brought Jack back from his musing and to the task at hand. Supper. He needed to eat something before he uploads the video for tomorrow.

In the Kitchen, Jack grabs many different items from the freezer and the frig and started to prepare supper. There was no one else in the apartment as Robin went home for the night and Signe was on her trip. But Jack felt an ominous feeling swept over him, as he reached for the small preparing knife on top of the cutting board.

*Did you miss me?*

Jack stopped chopping the potato and stared off into the distance with a blank expression on his face. As if he were in some kind of a trance. The small preparing knife loosely held in his hand. Jack started to slowly bring the knife toward him. Shaking his head breaking the spell, Jack continued to cook his supper as if nothing had ever happened. However, that ominous feeling never left. It felt like someone was watching him.

*I missed you very much*

Jack put his hand to his head as he staggered slightly into the Living Room. He thought about unwinding a bit by watching some TV, but now he started to seriously rethink that. This headache just came out of nowhere! Even with the cup of coffee he just finished, the headache wasn't going away. What had caused it? Was it too much salt?

*Did you even miss me, Jack?*

The last thing Jack remembered before he passed out on the couch, was seeing someone standing in the hallway.

=======================

(The Mindscape)

“Ah, ow, my head,” Jack said looking around.  “Where am I?”

It looked like a cell of some kind but with a sense of  .   .  .  familiarity?  The walls were patted with the foam from his recording studio.  The floor was back with a Sam the Septiceye rug in the middle of it.  The bed had green sheets and the blanket had all the different egos on it as comic book characters.  Across the room, had a desk with what looked to be either a TV set or a computer on it.  Not knowing where he was or how he got here.  Jack quickly got up and off the bed, steadying himself, and walked over to the desk, turning the computer on.  What he saw didn't make any sense.

“Welcome to the Mindscape.”  Read the opening screen.  The Mindscape? What’s the Mindscape?  Where was he?  As Jack continued to scroll through, more and more things popped up that still confused the hell out of him. Schedule a doctor’s appointment with Dr. Schneeplestein.  Dr. Schneeplestein? As in Henrik von Schneeplestein from the Jacksepticeye Power Hour and the Bio Inc. videos?  An ad saying, “If you ever need a hero just call on Jackieboy Man!”  Jackieboy Man?  Wait from the South Park: Fracture But Whole series, and the Cool Patrol video?

A sound caught Jack's attention.  Footsteps.  Someone was coming, but who? Looking around Jack didn't see any place for him to hide nor any way to ambush his attacker.  Looks like Jack has no choice, but to wait and see what will happen.  Maybe he could get some information on where he is and how he got here.  And maybe he could formulate a plane of escape.

There' a sound as if someone’s trying to pick a lock.  A click.  The door swings open and   .   .   .

“There you are!  I've been looking for you everywhere!  I knew I picked the right place!”  Jack's rescuer said excitedly.  He wore a gray shirt, blue jeans, and a trucker’s hat.  But the weird thing was, he looked exactly like Jack!  Except with light green hair.

Come to think of it.  He does look vaguely familiar, but Jack just couldn't put his finger on it.  “I’m sorry but who are you?”  Jack asked very confused.

“Wait?  Seriously?  You’re asking who I am?  You of all people should know who I am.  You created me after all!”  The man said excitedly.  “Chase Brody at your service.”

“Chase Brody?  As in the Bro Average Chase Brody?”  Jack asked in disbelief. How was this possible?

“The one and only!”  Chase said proudly.  “And it took me like a week to find you.  Look, we need to get out of here!”

“Where are we?  And you said it’s been a week?!”  Jack nearly shouted.

“The Mindscape,” Chase said matter-of-factually ignoring Jack nearly shouting at him.  He was surprised that Jack didn’t do that sooner.  “And yes, it has been about a week.  When you disappeared, a lot of strange things began to happen. So, I had to find you.”

“What’s the Mindscape?”  Jack’s curiosity getting the better of him now that he’s calmed down a bit.

“It’s hard to explain but in basic terms.  We’re in the part of your “Creative Mind” that created a world for us Egos to live in.  It’s a lot more complex than that though.  Henrik should be able to explain better than me.”

“Henrik?  As in Henrik von Schneeeplestein?”

“The one and only,” Chase said.  “Except that now – He’s gone missing!  And I don’t know where to find him!”

“We’ll find him, Chase,” Jack said reassuringly.  “Where did you last see him?”

“About a week ago.  I saw him in front of his Lab door and then he went missing.  Come to think of it. He was acting weird.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start. Lead the way, Chase.”

==========================

(Dr. Schneeplestein’s Office)

“So, this is Henrik’s Lab?  It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be,” Jack observed.

“Well, yeah,” Chase shrugged.  “He’s the only doctor in the Mindscape, so his lab would be pretty big to fit all of his patients.”

“That – That makes a lot of sense now that think about it,” Jack said following Chase inside.

Inside the Lab, there were many cozy looking chairs.  A Receptionist’s Desk, but no one was there.  Several different doors for different labs and patient’s rooms.  A green septic eye on the floor moving all around excitedly.  Wait, what?

“Sam!” Jack shouted and ran over his best friend.

Sam jumped and bounced off the floor and floated over to Jack.  Sam landed on Jack’s shoulder, curling their tail around the neckband of Jack’s shirt so as to not fall off.  And nuzzled in the nape of Jack’s neck.  Sam was so happy to have his best friend alive and well!

“Yeah, I saw Sam outside and brought the little dude in for safe keeping.  I think Sam was looking for you dude,” Chase explained.

“Jack! I’m so happy to see you!  Are you alright?  I was so worried!”  Sam said.   “Don’t worry Sam.  Chase got me out,” Jack reassured.  Chase didn’t know why but he felt a pang in his chest at seeing how close Sam and Jack were.  He quickly brushed it off, there were more important things to worry about.  “Are all the other egos here as well?”  Jack asked turning to Chase. 

“Oh, yeah! Jackieboy Man, Marvin, Anti, I think even the new guy is here too,” Chase explained.  There was something off about the way Chase explained that, but Jack quickly dismissed it.  Thinking it had to be the stress Chase was under.

“Maybe when we find Henrik, I could meet them.  One of them might know how I got here and be able to get me home,” Jack said.  “When was the last time you saw Henrik?”

“The last time I saw Henrik was about a week ago.  After you disappeared things started to go haywire. My world collapsed.  I don’t  .   .   .  I don’t know if Stacy or the kids ever got out. Henrik’s all I had.  Then he began acting  .  .  .  Strange.”

“Strange?  How so?”

“Dosing up on coffee more than he usually did when he used to work at the hospital.  Bags under his eyes as if he barely slept.  If he has gotten any sleep at all.  His hands were shaking so badly; I’m surprised he was even able to write! He kept looking over his shoulder, being paranoid about – something!  Then he kept mumbling and muttering “I can’t fail, can’t fail, can’t fail!  Not again!”

Then when I found the place you were in, Henrik really was out of it. His eyes man. Then he ran into his Deep Lab where he does a lot of his research and experiments.  And I lost him!”  When Chase finished explaining to Jack.  He was on the verge of tears.  He felt abandon again. Like he had somehow failed his friend and brother.

“Chase.”  Jack put his hand on Chase’s shoulder.  “We’ll find him. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out, Chase. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Chase said sincerely. “C’mon. Let’s go find Henrik.”

=============================

(The Deep Lab)

“This was where I last saw Henrik.  He was acting really weird.  Then something wasn’t right with his eyes.  There were  .   .   .  They were  .   .   .  Bleeding?  He ran in here and I never saw him again!  That’s when I knew I had to come and find you.”  Chase explained.

“Don’t worry Chase.  We’ll find him and figure out how to help him,” Jack reassured.

“How?  I mean  .   .  .  I never   .   .  .  Really came down here.”

“You said this is Henrik’s Deep Lab right?  Where he did all of his experiments and research?”  Chase nodded.  “Then maybe we could find Henrik’s Office.  Maybe we could find something there to tell us what’s going on and maybe where to look for Henrik.”

After several minutes and many dead ends, empty rooms and Labs, Chase and Jack found Henrik’s Office.  The place was littered from ceiling to floor with bookshelves stuffed and crammed with several different books, folders, files, and countless notebooks.  Drawers were filled to the brim with pens/pencils and many assorted objects that would only make sense to the good doctor.  Notes were scattered all over the floor as if it looked like a hurricane had come through the office.  A computer sat on the desk with his screen saver flashing and what looked to be a webcam with its light blinking.

Quickly going over to the computer, Jack sat down in Henrik’s chair and brought the computer to life.  Chase came over to the see what Jack was doing.  “You think we might find something on Henrik’s computer?”  Chase asked peering over Jack’s shoulder.

“Hm, maybe?”  Jack shrugged.  “It’s worth a shot.”

“Just be careful.  Henrik had a disgruntled employee when he used to work at the hospital, put a virus in the system.  It took both Jackie and Anti to get everything up and running.”  Chase warned.  He remembered all too well the aftermath of that disaster.  Luckily, no one in the house or his kids knew German.

Jack nodded and thanked Chase for letting him know.  Anti and Jackieboy Man working together?  Huh, well stranger things have happened. Let’s see. Patients’ files, experiments (Jack did not want to know what Henrik was thinking with that one), several different theories that could give MatPat and many Conspiracy Theorist a run for their money.

“I see where Jackie gets his hacking and computer skills from,” Chase complimented.  Seems like they all have a bit of Jack in them.

Jack continued going through Henrik’s computer trying to find something. Wait. What’s that?  A video?  Henrik made videos?  No, wait.  It’s not a video.  It’s a  .  .  .  Vlog?

“Why would Henrik make a vlog?  That doesn’t make any sense!”  Chase said seeing what Jack pulled up.

“Only one way to find out,” Jack said clicking on the video.

=============================

(Entry 1)

Henrik was at his wit’s end!  He didn’t know what to do so he decided to do what his Creator and his brother Chase sometimes did. Henrik decided to record his findings and theories.  Now, what did Jack and Chase call them again?  Video Blogs?  Vlogs?  It’s very new to him but might as well get some out of that birthday present that Chase gave him.  At least Henrik could always go back and watch these videos to see if there was any connection or if he might have missed something.

“Alright now, what did Chase say to do again? Oh, right.  Three, two, one, clap. Camera good. Testing, test, 1, 2, 3.  Alright. Entry 1.  I’m recording my findings to do what my fellow colleague and brother, Chase Brody had suggested I do. That and if I could get our Creator, JackSepticeye, to take a look.  We might be able to get a second opinion on what’s going on with the Mindscape.

Some things not right with the Mindscape.  Dark clouds are coming in and looming over different parts of the Mindscape.  Several of my patients have been experiencing mood swings and many other different systems of them acting of character.  Unfortunately, some the Egos, my brothers, have been affected by it as well.  But it seems to pass quickly with them.  Others not so much.  I’m going to keep a close on the situation in case something happens.”

The video ended. Jack turned to Chase with a raised eyebrow.  Silently asking what did Henrik mean?  Chase downcast his eyes never meeting Jack’s gaze. 

Too embarrassed and ashamed to say anything.  Jack catching on to the discomfort in Chase, turned his attention back to the computer.  Another video popped up.

============================

(Entry 5)

“Entry 5.  The Corruption, there’s just no other way to describe it! It’s – it’s getting worse.  Many of my patients have been experiencing severe mood swings. Some had to be put into Quarantine.  I don’t know what’s causing all of this!  I need to do some major research and see what could have caused this and how to reverse this!

First things first.  I need to start with our Creator, JackSepticeye.  Maybe something in his personal life or quite possibly something in his professional like might have caused some sort of “rift” to transpire.  If not, then I need to check on the other Egos to make sure they are alright.  I have never seen something like this before. Hopefully, this will pass soon.”

The video ended. Jack was very confused.  Was Henrik the one that Jack saw before he passed out?  Maybe Henrik was trying to get Jack for help and somehow, Jack ended up in quarantine?  Only one way to find out and that was to press on.

Another video popped up.

===========================

(Entry 15)

“Entry 15.  This isn’t good.  The Corruption, it’s – it’s spreading throughout the Mindscape.  No one is safe.  Even some of my fellow brothers, the other Egos, are also starting to become affected by the “Corruption.”  It seems like the younger Egos are more prone to the “Corruption.”  My only theory to this is because I believe the younger Egos haven’t been able to get as much of a “following” as some of the other Egos have with the Community.

Unfortunately, one such Ego, Chase Brody, has been experiencing some severe mood swings.  He’s even starting to show signs of deep depression now.  Chase is currently staying with me for the time being.  I’m hoping to find what might be causing this and to see if I could reverse the effects.  I’ve reached out to BingSepticeye to see if he could find any trace of the “Corruption.”  So far, I haven’t heard anything from him as of yet.  I’m going to try and make a serum that will introduce positivity to my patients.  It’s only going to be a temporary fix but until we can find the exact source of the “Corruption.”

The video ended. Jack kept his focus on the computer screen, pretending to find another video. He decided not to say anything to Chase about what they just heard. Opting to let Chase volunteer when he was ready.

“Jack?” Chase asked barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t  .  .  .  Please don’t think any less of me. It really was  .  .  .  A bad time for me.”

“Chase.  I would never think any less of you.  If you want to talk about it I'm here but I won't push.” Jack explained.

“Thanks, Jack.  That means a lot,” Chase said.

Jack went back to the computer to see what else they may find.  At least they were figuring out what had happened to Henrik.  Now, maybe, they will find out where Henrik might have disappeared too.

===============================

(Entry 25)

The background in this video was completely different from the other videos. The lighting was very bright but it only focused on one area.  Several different medical supplies and equipment were on the far left and the far right of the corners.  And was that a surgical table there behind Henrik?  Jack didn't know why but a sudden feeling of dread came over him as he clicked on the video.

"Entry 25.  The Corruption is getting worst!  It’s now affecting all of the Mindscape!  Anti, had come to me even his world is starting to be affected by the Corruption.  Parts of his world are starting to gray out.  I have never seen something like this!

But the worst is what had happened to one of the newer Egos.  Robbie was starting to experience unquenchable hunger like systems.  Anti, brought him in hoping that I could help his younger brother.  Unfortunately, I had to put Robbie in quarantine at least for right now.  It’s only until I can find out what has happened to Robbie and fix it!  I better keep a close eye on Anti as well.  No telling what the "Corruption" might do to him."

The video ended.  Jack was confused and concerned about what was happening to the Mindscape.  What had caused all of this and how could he help?  Who brought him here?  It was starting to look as if Henrik had nothing to do with Jack being here.  Jack frantically searched for another video.

“We might have to go deeper into the Deep Lab if we’re going to find out where Henrik disappeared too.  Or to see what had happened to him.”  Jack told Chase when his search came up empty.

“Gnk.  Are – are you sure, Jack?”  Chase asked not like the idea.

“I’m sorry Chase, but we don’t have a choice here if we want to find Henrik.”

“Alright.  Where do we start?”

“Hm, let’s see,” Jack said typing away at the computer.  “The last video had a different background.”  Jack pulled up the video and focused on the background. 

“Do you recognize any of this?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chase answered reluctantly.  “It’s the Operation Room.”

“Then that’s where we need to go.”

================================

(Operation Room)

Jack and Chase made their way to the entrance hall of the Operation Room. Chase hesitated in following Jack.  Chase’s breathing became heavy and he started to shake.

“Chase?  Are you – are you okay?”  Jack asked concerned.

“Y-yeah.  It’s just – it’s just really bad memories.  I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m just – I’m scared!”  Chase admitted to Jack.  Chase has always hated hospitals ever since  .  .  .  No, let’s not go down that rabbit hole!

“Chase,” Jack put his hand on Chases’ shoulder.  “I won’t press.  Just know that I’m here for you.”

Chase gave Jack a weak smile.  Taking a deep breath.  “Let’s – let’s go find Henrik.”

Entering the corridor, Jack searched for a light switch and instantly wished he were back in the safety of his recording studio.  It looked like they just entered a horror game.  The lights were flickering on and off, making Jack wonder when they might go out.  The floor was cover with different medical supplies. A wheelchair slowly moving back and forth.  The pictures on the walls looked as if the paintings were doubled faced or melting.  The walls  .  .  .  The walls themselves were the worst.  Blood splattered, bloody hand-prints and smears covered the walls as far as the eye could see.

“Stay close Chase,” Jack whispered.

“D-don’t need to t-tell me twice,” Chase stuttered shaking. ‘This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare.  You’ll wake up Chase and find Henrik had fallen asleep at his desk again.’  Chase kept repeating that thought as he followed Jack to Henrik’s Office.

The office looked similar as in the vlog but not at the time.  Stealing his nerves and avoiding the operation table (Jack did not want to know what was underneath the sheet).  Jack went over to the computer to see what he could find.  Sam decided to hover around to keep an eye out on things.

A few minutes later, a video popped up.

========================

(Entry 30)

“Entry 30.  So far, the results of the serum I have made to introduce positivity to my patients have been good.  Their anxiety has decreased, many of the mood swings have lowered.  But I’m afraid that with me doing all of this, that I could be the next target of the “Corruption.”

I’m already starting to see the signs.  My nervousness and anxiety are already increasing but I must not lose focus!  Our Creator, JackSepticeye has disappeared! Worst yet no one seems to know who’s in control of the body!  I’m hoping it’s one of the other Egos until we can find Jack.  Until then I will be keeping a close eye on myself and will be documenting any and all sudden changes in my behavior.”

The video ended and Jack could already see the signs of the Corruption starting with Henrik.  His speech pattern was off. He was talking more rapidly than he did in his previous videos.  Signs of stress and not sleeping well were showing as well.

Another video popped up.

==========================

(Entry 40)

“Entry 40.  I have indeed become the next target of the Corruption!  These nightmares.  They plague me every night. I can’t – get them out of my head!  I’m back in the hospital I used to work at but my friends  .   .   .  My brothers  .   .   .  Their voices keep echoing in my head!  They keep saying that I failed!  That I failed as a doctor!

S-someone comes into the hospital and I’m r-responsible for him.  But something happens and he doesn’t make it.  My friends’ voices – they keep telling me it’s all my fault!  I failed.  I don’t know who the patient is but every night I wake up screaming “No my friend!  NO!”  Worst yet, I think the audio hallucination are starting to take effect.  I need to start giving myself a dosage of the serum.  It might combat the effects of the Corruption.”

The video ended.  Both Jack and Chase shared a look with one another.  If Henrik was a target, then they need to act fast.  One, of these videos, has to lead them to Henrik!  Crossing his fingers and hoping for the best, Jack search for another entry.

Another video popped up.

===============================

(Entry 50)

“Entry 50.  These nightmares.  They won’t stop!  Not even the serum is helping! These nightmares plague me every time I so much as I close my eyes.  I’m dosing up on coffee just to stay awake.  I can’t  .   .   .   I can’t relive those events. I know they’re not true but it feels so real.

I’ve decided to record my nightmares.  Maybe with them being out in the open will lessen the effects and maybe I can connect the dots as to what might be causing them.  What might be making them so   .   .   .  real.”

===============================

(Nightmare 1: Chase Brody)

Henrik was in the Staff Room of the Mindscape Hospital sipping his coffee.  Just a couple of more hours then he can go home and relax. It has been anything but a quiet day today.  Sighing heavily and rubbing his tired eyes, Henrik checked his phone for the hundredth time during his break.  He had a bad feeling that he just could not shake.  He hasn’t heard from Chase all day.  Ever since that gold digging bitch of a wife, filed for divorce and took the kids.  Chase has fallen into deep depression.

Henrik kept his mouth shut but Chase deserved better!  Ever since Chase’s YouTube Channel wasn’t doing as well because of some bull crap from the higher-ups.  The money wasn’t there like it used to be. And according to Stacy, it was all Chase’s fault!  Stacy had the nerve to call Chase up when he was working on a video to tell him that she was filing for divorce and took the kids to her sister’s house.  Claiming to her family, that “they were right all along.”  Gold digging bastards the lot of them.  If you are not making the money, then you are not worth their time.

Henrik seeing no response from Chase.  Decided to try calling him.  And that was when things took a turn for the worst.

The sound of an alarm blaring retched Henrik back to reality.  He ran out of the Staff Room and down the corridor at top speed.

“What’s happened?”  Henrik demanded from a nurse seeing them pulling in a gurney.

“Male.  Mid to late twenties.  Attempted suicide.”  The Nurse quickly explained.

“Chase!”

“You know him?”

“Get him in the Emergency Room at once!”

“But Doctor  .  .  .”

“NOW!!!”

In the Emergency Room, Henrik prepped Chase for surgery hoping to save him. Chase didn’t deserve this!  The Operation Room was nothing but a living hell for Henrik.  Chase’s vitals were rapidly dropping.  Too much, blood loss and not enough time to get the blood transfusion in him.  The heart monitor was going crazy, dropping by the minute.

“No!  Chase!  No, my friend!  I will not let you die!”

Flat-line.

Charging the shockers, Henrik pressed them to Chase’s chest.  One, two, three, Clear!  Nothing.  Increasing the voltage.  Clear!  Nothing. Once more. C’mon Chase!  Come back!  Come back to me, come back to us! Chase never came back.  The heart monitor stayed silent.

Henrik went to put the white sheet over Chase.  When he was about to put it on top of Chase’s head.  Chase opened his eyes and turned his head looking right at Henrik but his eyes!  Chase’s eyes weren’t normal.  They were button-like! One was black on the outside but orange on this inside, the other was orange on the outside but black on the inside.  Blood was dripping down his from his button-like eyes like the puppet from Five Nights at Freddy’s.

*Why didn’t you same me?*

==========================

(Entry 50)

“I wake up screaming after that.  Sometimes shaking.  Then I hear this  .  .  . This voice.  It sometimes sounds like Chase but other times it would sound like Chase’s ex-wife Stacy or the other egos.  Asking me, why I didn’t save Chase. Saying that it was all my fault!  That I should have been able to save him.

“But the worst one  .  .  .  The worst one.”  Henrik took a deep breath.  “It – it involves our Creator. JackSepticeye.”

=======================

(Nightmare 2:  JackSepticeye)

Signe rushed Jack to the hospital calling Henrik over for help. Neither one of them knew what was wrong.  At first, Jack and Signe thought Jack had caught a forty-eight-hour virus or the flu. But then Jack kept getting worse by the day. Henrik got Jack in and quickly began running diagnostic tests to see what was causing Jack’s illness. Once they found out a few things and began treatment, Jack started to show signs of improvement. Then more things started to go wrong.

They quickly transported Jack to the I.C. Unit. More tests were run; more treatments were given. Jack continued to fight for his life but it seemed like every time they made progress. Something else went terribly wrong. Henrik was at his wit’s end. He didn’t know what was going on.

“Don’t worry Jack!  I’ve got you.  I will not let you die.  Not again!  I almost lost you once before!”

The events of Halloween the previous year played through Henrik’s mind as if he were watching a video.  Jack was doing his annual carving pumpkins video. Then the strange sounds started.  The giggling and stomping, but when Jack went to check it out no one was there. Then the video began to glitch in out with different images of someone there when Jack wasn’t in the room.  But the worst  .  .  .  the worst was when Jack got the end of the video where he was about to show his fans how to do some fine tuning.

The glitching happened again. Jack stared blankly at the camera, holding the knife in his right hand. Slowly bringing it towards himself. His hand shaking, a clear sign of Jack trying to resist.  Then the knife was pressed against his neck. Glitching in and out of the video showed someone was standing right behind Jack controlling him. His hand over, top of Jack’s hand with the knife. A smile on his face.

“D0 1t. N0 0n3 W1Ll C@r3. Th@T d0Ct0R c@N’t $@v3 Y0u. N0 0n3 C@n. Y0Ur F@n$ L13d T0 y0U. tH3y W1Ll F0rG3t @Ll Ab0Ut Y0u W1tH1n @ Y3aR.”

Then Jack slit his throat, falling right on top of Gerald.  Then Anti took over giving his cryptic and creepy message to the Bosses.  But as soon as Henrik got there, Anti had vanished, leaving a very venerable Jack.

The heart monitor beeping like crazy brought Henrik out of that horrible memory and straight back to a living hell.  Rushing to stabilize Jack, Henrik can’t help but wonder what the hell was going on?!  Was Anti behind all of this?  Henrik hoped not.  He knew when Anti came to be an ego that many of the other egos were wary around him.  But soon they discovered that “off camera” Anti wasn’t that bad.  But now.  Now, Henrik wasn’t sure.

Jack turned his head toward Henrik and opened his eyes.  That was when Henrik took a step back.  Jack’s eyes!  They were   .   .   .  They were  .  .  . Button-like!  One eye was black on the outside but green on the inside.  The other one was green on the outside but black on the inside. Blood was beginning to drip from the button-like eyes.

*Help me* Jack manage to choke out.

“No my friend!  NO!”

Jack remained still.  No response.  Signe ran into the room seeing Jack dead. She screamed and cried.  “NO!!  Why didn’t you save him?!  It’s your fault!!  It’s all your fault!  You could have saved him!  You should have saved him!!!”  Before she ran out.

The lights in the Operation Room began to flicker then popped.  Henrik quickly went to the hallway dreading the news he would have to give to his friends and family.  When Henrik came out to the hallway, no one was there. he went down the hallway thinking they must be in the Waiting Room.  The lights started to go out, one by one, until the entire hallway was pitch black in, total darkness.

Clickclickclickclickclick.

The lighter Henrik carried around with him finally flickered on.  It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing.  Henrik heard a rattling breath behind him.  He turned around and nearly dropped his lighter.  There standing down the hallway was what Henrik hoped to be a person.  Henrik couldn’t tell if it was a male or female but what he could make out.  It made him want to run.

Pale like skin, button eyes with what Henrik hoped to be, paint dripping down its cheeks, sprayed painted stringing hair.  Its mouth looked like it was stitched shut.  Its shirt or jacket or possibly both looked to be patched together in different shades of colors. It saw Henrik and smiled.

*You killed them*

================================

(Entry 50)

“I wake up screaming after that one.  Twice Chase came running into my Office thinking that I was getting attacked.  That one – that one was the worst of them all.  So, of course, the two reoccurring nightmares are of Chase and Jack.  Every single night. I have to be careful though.  I’m already showing signs of auditory hallucinations and quite possibly the start of visual hallucinations.  If this keeps up, I might not have a choice but to put myself in quarantine.”

The video ended. Chase was growing more and more worried by the video. He feared that when they do find Henrik, that it might be too late. Chase hoped that that wasn’t the case. Crossing his fingers, he waited with bated breath for Jack to find another video.

Another video popped up.

==============================

(Entry 65)

“Entry 65. It’s worst then I could ever imagine.  The hallucinations.  I can’t get rid of them!  It’s getting to the point where I can’t even tell the difference between what’s real and a hallucination. And something is truly wrong! My eyes! They are  .   .  .  They are  .   .   .  Mutating!  Just like in my nightmares when I saw Chase and Jack.  I have to see something right away!”

The video ended. Jack and Chase were increasingly growing more worried by the minute.  Henrik’s eyes  .   .   .  They were  .   .   .  Button-like!  Not only that but it also looked as if they were bleeding. Jack also picked up on something else.  When Henrik spoke, it sounded glitchy.  Like the auto of the recording had gotten corrupted or something like that.  Dreading what they might find next, Jack searched for another video.

Another video popped up.

=======================

(Entry 79)

“Entry 79.  I have indeed been infected by the “Corruption.”  My eyes have mutated into a button-like a state.  Worst yet, they began to bleed but as the blood gets to a certain point.  It just gets absorbed then it starts all over again. Another thing I’m noticing.  I’m beginning to glitch like Anti!  I do not ask for his help for fear of what the Corruption might do to him!

I’m also noticing the hallucinations have become more and more frequent. I’m hearing the voice of Chase accusing me of never being a real Doctor.  If I was one, then why did I never saved him?  Why did I not help him when he was about to commit suicide?  I’m seeing the other Egos, my brothers, all of them accusing me of never saving anyone.  That I just pretended to be a real Doctor.

That I failed of ever being one and that I will never truly be a Doctor.  Otherwise, I would have saved our Creator!  I would have saved Jack!  I would have saved Chase! I would have figured out how to stop the Corruption. I  .   .   .  I need to put myself into quarantine.  I can’t risk putting anyone else in danger.”

The video ended. Chase cursed himself for being so selfish.  Why else would Henrik run away?  He wouldn’t abandon Chase unless he truly felt like that was the only option.  Henrik ran into the Deep Lab to protect Chase from himself because Henrik knew that he was becoming Corrupted.  Henrik felt like he was becoming a Mad Doctor or a Mad Scientist.  All Chase wanted to do was to find Henrik and apologize for ever doubting him and forever thinking that Henrik would ever abandon him.

Jack feverlessly searched for another video.  He a pit in the bottom of his stomach that what they might find won’t be good.

Another video popped up.

============================

(Entry 93)

This video was completely different from all of the others.  It looked like a hallway with metal doors, that had some kind of key lock that you needed some kind of code for.  The camera looked as if it was a handheld camera that Henrik was using to wirelessly record. Henrik, himself, didn’t look good. Very pale skin, as if he hadn’t seen the sun in days.  Button-like eyes, one blue on the outside but black on the inside, the other one was black on the outside but blue on the inside.  Both his eyes were bleeding making him look like a human version of the puppet from Five Nights at Freddy’s.  Henrik kept his surgical mask on but Jack had a feeling it was hiding something.

“Entry 93. I have no other choice.  I’m sorry Chase.  I’m so sorry.  I know you must feel like I’m abandoning you but I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else.  My body aches all over and I have this overwhelming feeling this  .   .   .  Urge to just prove that I’m not a failure.  That I am a real doctor, but if I do that I might  .   .  .  I might   .   .   .  Please, Chase, whatever you do.  Don’t try to find me.  It’s better than I lock myself away instead of risking a chance that I could hurt you or anyone.

Chase if you do find our Creator, JackSepticeye.  I think I know how to save the Mindscape.  You got to  .   .  .  Gnk  .   .   .   You  .   .   .  Oh the pain, the pain.” Henrik kept glitching in and out as if he was having trouble keeping himself together.  “You have to  .   .   .  You have to  .   .   .   Aahh  .   .   .  Introduce positivity  .   .   .  To the  .   .   .  Gah  .   .   .  To the ego that the world represents.  I  .   .   .  Don’t know how  .   .   .  But –  ah gnk – that’s what you need to do. Chase  .   .   .   I have always seen you like as a son and as a brother.  I’m so sorry my friend.”

Henrik dropped the camera and limped over the door.  He put in the key code and went inside.  It looked as if he was having trouble controlling his own body, but he managed to lock the door.  An agonizing scream could be heard from the other side of the door.  The camera continued to record until the card was full.

=============================

(Operation Room)

The video ended.  Chase turned to Jack with un-shed tears, silently pleading. They have got to find Henrik.  They have to save him.  Jack nodded to Chase. He understood the silent pleading.  They came this far.

“Do you recognize this part of the Lab?”  Jack asked Chase pulling up the video.

“Yeah, I do.  That’s the Quarantine Section but I have no idea where that is. Henrik only mentioned it a few times but very rarely has he ever used it,” Chase explained.

“Looks like we're going to have to search then,” Jack said.  “C’mon Sam.  We’re going to need you.”

They left the office heading down the hallway with Sam in the lead.  Jack every now and then would put a reassuring hand on Chase's arm or shoulder.  Doing his best to keep Chase from blaming himself, with what happened to Henrik. Even if they do find Henrik, Jack has absolutely no clue on how to help the good doctor.  Henrik said that they had to introduce positivity to the Ego, but how? Jack remembered when he first thought of doing videos of different Egos.  Asking his good friend Markiplier for help and advice, throwing ideas back and forth.

Sam stopped just a few feet ahead of them.  With the soft green glow that Same was giving, Chase and Jack could see there was something on the floor. “Henrik,” Chase whispered.  He picked up the powder blue cap and the stethoscope that Henrik always carried with him.

Jack looked at the door, and the sign read Quarantine Section.  “This is it.  I think this is where we’re going to find Henrik.  It looks like it needs some kind of key code.” Jack said silently hoping he was right.

Going down the hallway, Jack and Chase stumbled upon another corridor. The lights were out covering the entire corridor in darkness.

The sign read “Experiment Rooms.”  Taking a deep breath, Jack followed Sam through the corridor.  They came across an empty Lab that looked like Henrik had used. Looking around, they found different test tubes with different color liquids in each one.  On the counter to the right laid a notebook but the only legible part of the handwriting that anyone could read was “Positivity Serum.”

Test One:  Blue. Failure Test Two:  White. Failure Test Three:  Orange. Some Success. Test Four:  Red. Failure. Test Five:  Midnight Blue. Failure. Test Six:  Septic Green. Success.

“Do you think this was what Henrik meant by “Introducing Positivety” to the Ego?” Jack asked seeing the test vial that the notebook mentioned as a success.

“I – I don’t know. Maybe?”  Chase said with uncertainty as Jack pocketed the vial.

“C’mon.  Let’s see if we find that code and help Henrik.”  Jack tried to keep his voice even for Chase but he be lying if he didn't say he was on edge.

They haven't come across anything as of yet and that was making Jack extremely nervous.  He didn't what to expect or what state Henrik might be in if - when - they did find him.  They looked around the room some more, opening drawers, cabinets, and anything else they could think of.  Jack finally found a notebook with what looked to be the key code they were looking for.

“Found it! Now, let's go help, Henrik.”  Jack nearly pushed Chase out of the Lab. 

His nervous was on an all-time high and for the life of him, Jack couldn’t figure out why?  It felt like someone was – watching? –  them.

========================

(Quarantine Room):

Chase and Jack returned to the door that led to the Quarantine Section, but it wasn’t like it was when they left it.

“Is that – Is that blood?”  Chase nervously asked half afraid of what the answer might be.  Oh god! Henrik!

Jack didn't say anything.  Too shocked and nervous to even come up with something.  He wanted to calm Chase down, to reassure him that Henrik would be fine.  But it felt like something was preventing him from forming any words. Like it was stuck in his throat.  Reaching a shaking hand out, Jack put in the first code from the notebook.

19-5-1-14.  Buzz. Click.

The door opened revealing another corridor with many metal doors and something else that looked as if it came straight out of horror movie.  Several different patients in either hospital gowns or costumes were in the hallway. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jack nervously and cautiously moved forward. Doing his absolute best not to touch or interact with anyone.

“Deceit?  Who’s she?  Never heard of her.  Oh, are you looking for the Doctor? He’s doing splendidly!”  A guy who looked like Thomas Sanders dressed as Mr. Hyde said to them as they passed.

A female with blond hair pigtails that could easily pass for Harley Quinn's sister sat there.  Laughing and giggling at nothing.  “Hahaha! Do you want to play hospital?  I’ll be your nurse! Nurse Ash!  Heeheeheehahahahah!”

They went further down; Jack was wondering if this was what his friend Felix felt like in that one episode of i  What was it going to be like when they found Henrik?  Another few rooms down the hall, Chase, and Jack saw someone they couldn't believe.

“MatPat?!”  Both of them picking their jaws off the floor upon seeing him.

MatPat, YouTube’s Gaming and Movie Theorist, was wearing what could only be described as a Mad Hatter's outfit.  Diamond shapes covered his eyes, mismatch colors, and patterns on his pants, shirt, vest, and jacket.  The hat MatPat was wearing was so small Jack was wondering how the hell it was staying on his head without a headband or string.

“You'll theorize too!  You'll theorize too!  You'll theorize too!  You'll theorize too!”

Chase and Jack moved on.  They were almost there, or at least Jack truly hope so!  There were only a couple of doors left in this corridor but none of the others even looked like the one they saw in the video.  They were about to approach the one towards the end of the corridor when another “patient” come towards them.  She was a high school student with, brown hair, brown eye, wearing a choker, dressed in all black and carrying  .   .   .  a knife?

“Hahaha.  I’m Leah! Leah Woods!”  Leah gazed upon Jack and her eyes lit up seeing Jack dress in all black and wearing his gauges.  “Anti!”  Leah happily hugged who, she thought was her absolute favorite JackSepticeye Ego.  Not realizing that the trademark neck wound was absent.  “Anti! You’re here!  You’re here to take care of that Mad Doctor for hurting us!  Aren’t you Anti?” Her gaze then landed on Chase right behind Jack.  “Oh!  And you kidnapped Jack too?!  Feel free to make him watch!”  Leah giggled handing the knife over to Jack and was about to skip, away.

Jack stopped Leah and quickly switched to his Anti voice, “Which door is that Doctor in?  Hahaha!”

“Through that door!”

When Jack and Chase came to the door that Leah pointed out, it was the same door they recognized from the video.  The handheld camera was still laying on the floor in front of it.  A few feet, to the left of the door, was a girl rocking back and forth, muttering to herself.

She was dressed in a patched hospital gown in several different shades of gray and stringy spray painted hair.  Her eyes though - her eyes were covered in bandages but they seem to be bleeding.  Her mouth looked as if someone had stitched it.  Giving the impression of her being a living rag doll.

“Help me?  Help me?  Experiment 10-1-3-11.  Mad Doctor.  Help me.  Help Me.  Mad Doctor.  Experiment 10-1-3-11.”  She kept repeating the same thing. Never once did she notice the two new arrivals.

When Jack went to the door, a cold feeling of dread washed over him.  That was the key code she was repeating.  “Hang on Henrik.  We're coming.”

============================

(The Mad Doctor)

When Jack and Chase entered the room, what was left of their hopeful hearts shattered.  Henrik stood in the middle of the room, white as a ghost, glitching in and out uncontrollably.  His once bright styled hair, was now a pale green, matted and stringy, hanging all over the place.  His once calming ocean blue eye was now completely button-like! One eye blue on the outside but black on the inside. The other eye was black on the outside but blue on the inside. It also looked as if someone had sewn them into place on the top and bottom corners of his eyes.  Henrik's trademark mask was gone. His once soft smiling mouth was looked like a stitched doll-like mouth. Black strings with a strange weird like light or - static, maybe? - flowed across them, and was wrapped around Henrik's neck.

“H-Henrik?” Chase nervously asked not believing his eyes. ‘This is a nightmare! A nightmare!  C'mon Chase!  Wake up!  Just wake up now!!’

“ Ch̴̢̡as̴͠e̵͘͢? ̨J͢͜͏ack?́ ” Henrik now noticed them and gave them an uncharacteristically evil smile. “Ho̷w ni̴ce t͞o ̡s̸ee you.̴    J̧̀u͜͢s̴̨͜t̷̶ ̷͢͞in̵̵͢ ͝t͠i͏me̶ ͜͢f̷ơ͟r ҉̢͢y͘o͟u҉r̵ annua̴̢͟l̶͏ ̵͜҉ch͠eck̷̡͡ up!”  Henrik glitched uncontrollably as he approached Chase and Jack.

“Henrik?  Please?”  Chase begged, stepping back from his once beloved friend. “This  .   .   .  This isn't you!”

“ D̛̕ơ͟n̢’̵t̡͢ ̡͢͠b҉ę a̵̧̨fra͡i̸d Ch҉͠͠ase͘͢.͝ ̵͡ ̛į͘t͝ won'̸̢͞t ̵͘͠h͟u̕rt͝ ̕͝͠ . ̛͏̡ ̢̕ ̀. ́͜ ͏̸͢ ̨.͘͢͡ ̡ Mu̷ch .”

Henrik drawing a syringe, out of his coat pocket, lunged at Chase.  With years’ experience of trick shots and stunts on his side, Chase easily dodged out of the way.  Henrik then his full attention on their Creator, with a sadistic widening grin. Jack held the septic green vial in his hand, but he had no clue how they were going to introduce positivity to Henrik.  Upon seeing the syringe in Henrik's hand, that could be the way.  But how to subdue the Mad Doctor?

Henrik tackled Jack to the floor knocking the septic green vial out of Jack's hand. It completely shattered upon impacted.  Struggling against Henrik, Jack did his best to keep "the good doctor" from sticking him with whatever it was in that thing.  But Henrik in this state was proving to be a lot stronger than Jack realized.  Angling the syringe and about to plunge it into Jack.

Sam burst through the air at top speed.  Knocking the syringe out of Henrik’s hand. Shattering completely upon impact.  Jack bending his knees and getting his legs in front of him.  Shoved Henrik off him, making the doctor stumble and scramble to reach his medical cabinet.

“Henrik!” Chase shouted tackling Henrik to the ground pinning his arms to the side.

“ L̢͟emm̶̛e g̨o!  ͏L̸͠e̛mme͝ g̢͞͝o!͝  ̛I̷ hą̡v̴͟͞e̴ t́̕ơ ş͢a̵͟v̷̡͟e͠͡ ̵̧͝him!  S̷ave ͢J̷ack͠!̶  Sa̛ve̷ ̧Chase!”  Henrik struggled against Chase. “ I̸̧ ̡c̶̢a͘n̵̛’t̵̕ ̨́–̴͠ ̴͠I͠͞ c̷ań͜’͟҉҉t͘͢͞ ̛͡͠f͏̕͏ail̴̴ agą͘i͞n!͘҉́ ” Henrik’s eyes begin to tear.  Why are they doing this?  Can’t they see how much danger they are in?  He has to save them!

“Henrik!  It’s me!  It’s Chase!”  Chase pleaded.  His heartbreaking upon seeing his friend like this.  “You always have been there for me!  Even with the divorce! Always there for me when Stacy and I had our problems!  Now, let me be there for you!”

Something in what Chase said caught Henrik’s attention.  He momentarily stopped struggling and through his foggy haze.  He saw his friend and brother. “Ch-Chase?”

Jack grabbed Henrik's hand and put it to his heart.  Eyes glowing the septic green.  “Henrik!  This is Jack!  You need to wake up!  You need to come back to us!”

In Henrik’s mind, Jack could see Henrik in his lab. Strings tied to his neck and wrists, connected to faceless bodies leading to the Morgue.  All of them saying: Failure.  Murderer.  Monster.  Not good enough.  Not a real doctor. Useless. Pathetic.

“Henrik!” Jack’s eyes glowing brighter.  “Henrik.  You are a good doctor!  You've saved lives!  You have a family!  Chase needs you!” Henrik lifted his head and he heard what sounded like his Creator's voice. Then he saw images of several different patients thanking him for helping them. Families coming to him for help and support.  Chase coming to him and Henrik being there for him.  The strings began to break as the bodies slowly fade away. Henrik started to feel the warmth coming back to him.  Going towards where he heard his Creator Jack call to him.

But something had stopped him.  A strong yank on one of the strings of despair that remained. A voice echoed.  “Henrik?”  It asked softly, caring, alluring.  “Did you forget, Henrik?  Jack's dead.  You killed him.”

“Nein!  Nein!  Nein!  Es war nicht meine Schuld!” Henrik pleaded.

“Henrik!  You did save me!  You did save Chase!”  Jack nearly shouted.

The last string of despair finally snapped.

==========================================

Translation for German to English according to Google translate:

“Nein! Nein! Nein! Es war nicht meine Schuld!” “No! No! No! It wasn’t my fault”

Tagging:  @dolphintreasureart, @kisstheashesi, @septic-dr-schneep, @egopocalypse, @epicfangirl01, @i-am-parsec, @power-of-friends-games, @isa-ghost, @huffletrax, @shadowsinyoursoul, @thevampireauthoress, @a-humble-narcissus, @dezzydynamite, @kangaroo-roux,

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.13}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"Miss Mitchell, perhaps you could lower your wand first of all, so that we can discuss this issue without further violence." McGonagall finally stated, and Robin reluctantly did as she was told for the mere sake of a peaceful solution, but she took another step backwards and kept her wand at the ready nonetheless.

"This girl, this… student, she attacked me out of nowhere!" Morgan began stating his story, unasked, but McGonagall still turned to listen with a neutral expression and so did Robin. "We just so happened to stumble upon each other right here in this spot, after curfew may I add, and when I asked about her destination, she simply attacked me! I might have died if you hadn't found us!"

Robin let out the tiniest huff that luckily went unnoticed by either professor, and otherwise kept her neutral facade in place quite successfully for once this evening. She could prove Morgan's story wrong if she wanted to… because as much as he had been trying to get her to react, he had missed the fact that she would have multiple pieces of evidence against him in return. But for once Robin simply kept her mouth shut; if the issue was brought before the headmaster, which it surely would, she could spare herself the effort now and tell her story only once when the time had come.

"You should pay Poppy a visit if you are so gravely injured, Damion. The hospital wing certainly will be a better place for you right now than the headmaster's office." McGonagall stated, and Robin almost would've snorted at her dismissive tone. "But I suggest you return Miss Mitchell's property to her before you go."

Robin's train of thought halted for a moment, but she didn't allow herself to frown. How did McGonagall know about that? She would have to have witnessed their encounter to some length at least to be aware of the situation, which meant that she must have seen that Robin had merely defended herself. Perhaps it didn't look so bleak for her after all! But why would she let Morgan go without addressing his assault on Robin? Gods, things were getting complicated beyond her control again.

Grumbling something about mere evidence, Morgan grabbed the necklace from his pocket and tossed it at Robin with a sneer. She had a hard time catching it, but he probably hadn't intended her to in the first place. While she slipped it into her pocket, her eyes stayed on the two teachers in front of her.

"Don't believe a word she says, she's a brilliant liar." Morgan said to McGonagall, as he started limping down the hallway towards the infirmary like he'd been told to. "And remember that I would have kept the necklace as evidence of her crimes, if my broken bones aren't enough of that already."

"Don't worry, Damion, I will take care of the situation appropriately." McGonagall replied in an odd mixture of reassurance and accusation, and for a moment Robin wondered if she was wrong about the necklace issue. Morgan didn't seem to think that it was a tell of his lies, nor did McGonagall make any attempt to hold him accountable for what he had done. Perhaps Robin was missing something? Perhaps there was another way for her to know?

"Come, dear…" The transfiguration professor finally said in a quiet tone, once Morgan was definitely out of earshot. Then she led Robin down the hallway she had come from, and finally motioned for her to sit down on a windowsill. It briefly crossed Robin's mind that Snape must be waiting for her by now, but she could hardly leave the situation at a time like this.

"I apologise for the inconvenience, Professor." Robin finally said after a few seconds of silence, when she didn't know what else to say. "I'm aware that you had something else to do tonight, and I certainly didn't mean to keep you from it."

"And how would you know about that?" McGonagall frowned down at her for a moment, but then sighed as she answered her own question. "Severus. Of course."

"I was keeping him company on his patrol tonight. To catch up after the holidays."

"I can hardly imagine you having a lot to catch up on, after spending the entire summer together."

"You-..."

"I know all about the two of you, yes. The headmaster told me himself, and I also happen to have two very good eyes I occasionally make use of." McGonagall was quick to reply, however without any judgement to her tone, merely factuality. "But that is entirely besides the point right now."

"Right…" Robin said, taking a deep breath. "The point is that I attacked a teacher, or rather that Morgan accuses me of it. Either way, I will spare you the story; you probably wouldn't believe it anyway."

"Your lack of faith in me is disappointing. But I must admit it seems rather reasonable, in the light of past occurrences where –unfortunately– I was led to put more faith into Damion's word than in yours. I apologise for this grave mistake. Not only did I come to see the error in it a while ago, but this time I happen to have witnessed the entire incident myself." McGonagall sighed, then gave Robin a sympathetic look. "I am sorry that he hurt you, dear. Truly."

"But if you saw what happened… You heard what he said, saw what he did… Why did you just let him leave like that? Why didn't you stop him?!"

"I have my orders, whether I agree with them or not. I am merely to observe, and report back to the headmaster. But don't you think for a second that I didn't want to intervene when Damion laid hands on you! I might very well have, if you hadn't started defending yourself at last."

"I appreciate that, Professor." Robin gave her a small smile, and subconsciously started massaging the ache in her shoulder in an attempt to lessen it somehow. "Both, the apology and your help. Will you tell the headmaster what really happened? And what about Morgan?"

"He will be taken care of, no doubt. It is for Professor Dumbledore to decide over his fate, but you should try to stay out of his way nonetheless."

"That's what I've been trying to do for the last six years." Robin couldn't help snorting in irony. "But as it seems, no act to deal with him proved effective in the long run."

"Act? What do you-..." McGonagall was cut off by hurried footsteps approaching them, and when Robin saw a cloud of black rounding the corner, her entire being sighed in relief. Not that McGonagall was bad company, on the contrary really, but nothing could beat the comfort and safety she felt with Snape.

"What on earth is going on here?" He snapped at McGonagall in the very moment he was close enough, sending a menacing glare at his colleague while Robin rose to her feet even though she wasn't being addressed. "I certainly hope you have a good explanation for this, Minerva. What is it this time that you accuse Robin of?"

"Professor McGonagall was kind enough to help me, actually." Robin said before the professor could give an answer herself, trying to shortcut the discussion she saw coming between the two, and Snape turned around to her in an instant only for his scowling facade to drop immediately when his eyes fell upon her. Robin saw his impulse to react, followed by a sudden halt when he seemed to remember that they weren't alone. She might as well take that concern off his mind right now. "She knows. Dumbledore told her."

That seemed to suffice for him to know what she meant, and in conclusion to ignore the other professor entirely as he stepped closer to Robin and brought his hand to the curve of her neck, inspecting what Robin believed to be her by now bruised shoulder with a deeply concerned expression. "What happened?"

"Morgan." Robin replied under her breath, as she focused on the very much welcome touch for once, even though he dropped his hand mere seconds later. "He was… worse. So much worse than the last times."

"If the bruise and the bleeding scratch on your neck are anything to go by, I would have to agree." He grumbled with a returning scowl, but Robin knew that it wasn't meant for her. "If I had been there, I would have-..."

"I know." Robin interrupted him with a more or less reassuring half smile. "I know. But it happened like it did, and it's over for now. When you found us, Professor McGonagall was just saying that the issue will be taken care of by the headmaster himself."

"Yes, and we all have seen just how successful that has been the last few times." Snape drawled in sarcasm as he looked over to McGonagall in obvious disdain for the idea. "What do you think how often I have reported these occurrences to the headmaster, only for my words to be entirely disregarded? Do you seriously believe that he will take the necessary actions this time?"

"That isn't for me to judge." McGonagall replied evasively, and even Robin could tell that the professor didn't seem content with her answer herself. What was going on behind the scenes here that Robin was missing? Obviously there had to be something more to it all, if Dumbledore had tasked McGonagall with spying on Morgan in the first place.

"You can tell Albus that should I ever find myself a witness of Damion purposely harming anyone at all, I will see to it that he no longer can." Snape said in a threatening calm, keeping his bone chilling gaze on McGonagall who however seemed absolutely unbothered by it.

"In that case you might be pleased to know that Miss Mitchell sent him straight to the hospital wing tonight. There was no necessity for me to get involved, seeing as she is very much capable of taking care of herself." McGonagall replied easily now while giving Snape a look, for perhaps she too knew that his anger wasn't even directed at her in that moment. "What I very much intend to do now however is to ensure that she shouldn't have the necessity to do so again."

Snape in return quirked an eyebrow at his colleague first, while the scowl faded slowly, then he took a glimpse down at Robin and the corners of his lips quirked up for the briefest moment. "I wish I had seen that."

"I wish I hadn't." Robin said with a sad half smile up at him. "I could have done well without the entire counter."

"I will leave you two to it, then." McGonagall stated before the conversation that started to exclude her more and more could continue. "There is still plenty of work for me to do, and I believe both of you are well taken care of now."

"Yes. Thank you again, Professor. I hope you have a good night, despite this incident." Robin answered her before Snape could say anything overly defensive, which he surely would have done upon his colleague's choice of words.

With a small smile, the transfiguration professor gave them an almost approving nod, then made her quick way down the hallway, and disappeared around the nearest corner a few seconds later. When she was out of sight, Robin couldn't help releasing a drawn out breath and dropping her forehead against Snape's upper arm, which was the only point of him she could currently reach.

"This night really turned into a thorough clusterfuck." She groaned under her breath. "I'm just glad McGonagall showed up when she did."

"Did she actually help you?" He asked quietly, and held perfectly still to keep her head in place. "Or was that merely a twisted truth?"

"It's more complicated than that." Robin sighed under her breath and lifted her head to look up at him with tired eyes. "Perhaps we should just continue patrol and forget about it."

"Absolutely not. But say, were you able to drop off Miss Parlow with Pomona before this… incident?"

"Yes. Sprout sends you her thanks and she hopes we have a good night. I was just on my way back from her office to meet you when Morgan found me."

"In that case, I believe we have done enough patrolling for tonight."

"It's not even midnight…" Robin frowned up at him, but the mere prospect of going to one of her safe places sooner than expected sufficed to make it more of a loose statement than a protest. "Aren't we supposed to be out here until two?"

"Unlike what I believed up to the most recent past, I now couldn't care less about what is supposed to be. If assault on students is simply disregarded by the headmaster, he certainly won't mind half a night without patrol either."

"I wish I could bring myself to disagree with that reasoning, but I'm just beyond done with tonight, and even more so with Dumbledore's bloody secrets. That man clearly knows more than he tells us, and I will find out what that's about. Just not now." She sighed. "If I have to see one more professor tonight, I swear I'll scream."

Snape merely quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement while a not-smirk played on his lips, and it took Robin a few seconds to get it, but then she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and had to smile as well before they started towards the dungeons.

"I didn't mean YOU, obviously!" She groaned as they crossed through the hallways. "I would keep you around me all day if I could."

"Would you really?"

"We literally spent all day every day together for eight bloody weeks, do you seriously even have to ask at this point?"

"I suppose I don't." He mused, while they made their way down the spiral staircase and towards the office. "Actually, I have never before thought it such a shame that the summer is over."

"There's always next summer." Robin shrugged, but immediately regretted it when both her shoulder and her neck hurt with new intensity, and she let out a pained hiss in return. "Bloody Morgan… Now that one bruise is finally fading, I already have got the next to deal with. And this one's gonna be a pain to cover up."

"To think that he did this to you on purpose… that he did it at all… You would do well to give me a good reason not to find Morgan and end him in this very instant."

"Who would patch me up if you left now, huh?" She tried with a half smile up at him, one that was meant to be encouraging but probably looked a bit too sad for that. "And what would you say to him? You have no idea what really happened…"

"He hurt you. Again. What could possibly be worse to know than that?"

"You'll see." She answered under her breath, not even sure if he had heard her or not, and they finally entered the office a moment later. Gods, it was good to be back… Robin had missed the place.

"I have a dittany balm that will heal the scratch, but the bruise will simply take time as always. Would you like a draught against the pain?" Snape asked after he had locked the door behind them, obviously sharing Robin's wish for some much needed solitude.

"No, it's alright. Compared to getting stabbed, it hardly even hurts at all." She huffed to herself with a twisted smile at the absurdity of the sentence that was now perfectly normal for her to say. "But I'll gladly take that balm. I can't deal with open wounds, I tend to scratch them open until they get worse and worse."

"Let me guess, you forget about it and pick at them while lost in thought?"

"Unfortunately."

"Very recognizable." He sighed, then pulled a jar with an almost unreadable label out of the shelves. "Apply this in a thin layer on your neck."

"Will you do it for me? Please?" Robin asked with an almost too desperate, too hopeful expression, and a much too quiet tone. "I can't... see the scratch, and I can hardly lift my arm without hurting my shoulder even more. Would you…?"

"Of course." He replied in the same manner, then reluctantly came close enough to see to the task himself.

It took exactly one brush of Snape's hand against her skin, while he carefully moved her hair out of the way, to erase any discomfort within Robin's mind that the previous encounters, or rather the overall day had left. She couldn't help but marvel at her mind and body's response to his touch, to all of him in general, and she stood perfectly still while she allowed herself to focus on the pleasant feeling of his chilled fingers on the burning skin of her neck. Ripping a necklace off was way more painful than movies made it out to be, especially when the chain was quite that tough and bit into the skin like a saw. But having his gentle touch on her neck now really was as soothing for her mind as the balm was for her skin, and she found herself melting into a pleasant mess of electric tingles right beneath his fingertips. If only she didn't have to keep getting injured first for such fleeting moments of physical closeness… but then again, she really wasn't doing it on purpose. The scratches on her neck were healed and fading all too soon, and when he carefully brushed her hair from her unhurt shoulder to her back again, Robin couldn't suppress the pleasant shiver that ran all through her.

"Are you cold?" He asked in return to seeing the goosebumps on her skin, but luckily he moved to put the jar back into its space on the shelf and didn't focus on the colour rising to Robin's cheeks in an instant.

"Mostly tired, actually. I think coffee should solve either problem." She replied with a small sigh, then dropped down in her usual seat. Honestly, she had missed the office. But she had missed Snape even more, even during that one stupid week alone. Pathetic… but what could she do. "Does our agreement still stand, even with only half a night of patrol?"

"I would make you coffee for the rest of my life if that could undo what Morgan did to you yet again." He mumbled as he moved to prepare their mugs that by now were as much a staple in the office as all the potions and books.

"It's not your fault that this happened, you know that, right?"

"If I hadn't asked you to come with me, or even worse, asked you to do my own bloody work for me, you would never have run into him."

"I didn't just run into him, I'm fairly sure of that. He sought me out on purpose. And he could've done that at any given point at all, if not tonight, perhaps tomorrow or the day after. Unless you were planning on escorting me every single day to every single place I go, I doubt that there's anything you could've done to prevent this from happening."

"What exactly is 'this', then? You said that it is worse than before, you said it is complicated. But you have avoided speaking of it as anything other than a tragic accident, which it clearly was not." He asked as he placed their coffees on the small table and sat down in his chair across from her, while his eyes however never left hers. "Tell me about it."

"No. You will have to look into my mind if you want to know." She returned quietly, reluctant and yet desperate for him to finally see, to understand. "I can't bring myself to repeat what he said, what he did… You and I have done this before in moments like this, where I-…" For a second she paused, swallowed the lump in her throat, and only then went on. "You know it will tell you more than my words ever could. Please."

"Are you certain you are comfortable with that?"

"Without a doubt. I'm honestly more concerned about you right now."

"Why?"

"Because I know what you will see, and I would gladly spare you from the consequences of that. But you have to know, even if you won't like it."

"I don't understand."

"You will." She sighed under her breath, then focused on locking everything up that he wasn't supposed to see. Hiding a love like that was getting nigh impossible at this point, but she knew she had to, so she did. Then her focus was back on his eyes. "Ready when you are."

He mirrored her posture, mirrored her focus, then Robin felt the prickle in the back of her mind that by now didn't even hurt at all. It was merely a matter of access and resistance; if she didn't fight, there was no pain. If she let him into her mind willingly, it was almost… pleasant. In a way. She shook off the thought immediately, only too glad that he hadn't seen it. They had more pressing matters to deal with now.

It didn't take long to go through her recent memory, starting from the point where Robin had left Sprout's door behind. Then her encounter with Morgan, how he had pressed her into the wall, how he had taken her locket, how he had made abundantly clear that he thought of her as his in whatever sick game he was playing. Finally the situation with McGonagall, which Robin still saw in a positive light after all, even if the professor had let matters proceed as far as they had. It left Robin feeling betrayed by the teacher who would have been supposed to help her, but at the same time understanding of the employee who had been forbidden to, and sympathetic for the woman stuck in the middle. Any anger she felt was solely directed at Morgan now, and perhaps Dumbledore as well. That's where her memories ran out, and Robin was left alone in her mind once more, almost suffering an actual feeling of loss for a few seconds, before her focus was drawn out of her head and to the man in front of her instead.

The expression on Snape's face almost broke her heart. Shock, repulsion, anger, incredulity… just to name a few. She wanted to make it better, to comfort him from the horrors of her own pain, to make that it never happened. But all she could do was look back at him and try not to cry while her heart was racing once again.

"I'm so sorry…" She managed to say in a whisper, not trusting her voice enough to speak any louder without cracking. She didn't know what exactly she was apologising for, all of it perhaps, but she felt guilty enough to do so nonetheless. "Please don't be angry."

"I am not angry." He finally replied, in perfect grave neutrality. Gods… that wasn't a good sign. "Anger doesn't make you want to do unspeakable things to someone. Anger doesn't make you want to kill them with such a burning urge for it to hurt."

"Don't…"

"And whyever not?!" He snapped and Robin jumped in her seat, which at least got his scrutinising expression to soften ever so slightly in obvious regret. "I have done worse before, Robin, you will surely know that. I have killed people and I have spent years hating myself for it beyond any measure. But for you I would do it again, anytime, without a second thought."

"And that is exactly why I could never let you do it indeed." Her voice was surprisingly steady, considering the rousing waves of overwhelming electricity surging through her upon his words. He meant every bit of what he was saying, she knew that all too well, and she swore to herself that she would never let it come that far. She loved him far too much to let him do that to himself. "I know you would, and it means more to me than you can imagine. But I won't be the reason for your misery."

"What is misery to this… Are you so unaware that I am devastated every single time you get hurt?! How can I let him get away with all that he has done to you, how can I let him live when I know he will do it again? Can you tell me that?"

"How could I let you kill someone only to then spend the rest of my life without my best friend after they send you to bloody Azkaban?! How could I live with myself knowing that I'm the reason for your death, because that's just what that hellhole of a prison is and you know it!" Robin snapped right back, and Snape turned to look away with a huff in frustration. He didn't move away, didn't even lean back in the slightest as he scowled at the wall across the room, and Robin knew that her arguments were getting through to him. If he wanted it or not. She was right, and there was no denying it, not even for the master of deceit. She would make him understand her truth. "If getting to live without Morgan for the next year means living without you forever, then I will gladly let him torture me as much as he fancies. A mere bloody year of pathetic quarrels with a delusional man in exchange for your life, a bloody year to keep you by my side for the rest of mine… I will gladly do that, for both of us. Without a second thought even."

"What if you don't make it to the end of that year in the first place? What if Morgan finally loses it entirely and chooses to kill you tomorrow, or next week, or next month?!"

"You forget that Morgan is an absolute idiot who surrendered to me more times in the past than he can even count up to. He's just a bully with a title, an asshole we can't get rid of for some reason that we will find out about eventually. We will be fine, just like we were before. You and I, together." Robin said calmly now, with a softness she just couldn't help. But he still wouldn't look at her, even if his expression had turned from a scowl to frustration and despair now, and Robin did the only thing she knew to work when he was stuck in the darkest corners of his own mind like this. She took his hand, and held onto it tightly. "Please, Severus… Be better with me."

Finally his eyes snapped back to hers, wide with surprise and something deeply vulnerable, and Robin immediately knew why. She never used his first name, never used any name for him at all… and now that she had, it seemed to have such an impact on him that the despair from before was washed away with a start. For a moment he simply held her gaze, without any readable expression at all, then he shifted his hand beneath hers to intertwine their fingers ever so gently, but in utmost certainty no less. Robin's heart skipped a beat, and another and another and then it settled into a steady drumming that might very well be heard in the entire castle. Gods, he did inexplicable things to her without even being aware.

"I will do anything to keep you safe, you know that." He said at last, in a quiet calm for the first time in hours. "But I have to agree, I cannot protect you when I am sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban."

"I'm glad we are on the same page now." Robin returned with a small smile. "With killing Morgan out of the question and my act blown, we need a new strategy to deal with him though. Most of our more successful plans were a product of both our minds, and I doubt it will be different this time."

"Indeed. What do you suggest?"

"We might as well properly protect ourselves and each other when he tries to harm either of us from here on. But we can't be the ones to attack him first." She stated, and another shiver ran down her back when his hold on her hand tightened for a moment, still laced together with hers quite so perfectly. "Just because I want us to stick to defense doesn't mean we can't hurt him when he tries to hurt us."

Now that brought a small smirk to his lips at last, and he actually seemed to somewhat relax for the first time all night. "I can live with that."

"Good." She couldn't help smiling in return. "I think he got a good glimpse of that strategy tonight already. Fighting back I certainly did."

"I cannot believe that of all his vile words, it was his threat against me that finally made you react in the end."

"What's so hard to believe about that? You say you would kill for me, what makes you doubt that I would do the same for you?"

"I know better than to doubt you, Robin. But it is… an unfamiliar situation for me to find myself on the receiving end of such loyalty." He said in mild discomfort about whatever thought had accompanied his words, then however the expression passed and he was back to the usual calm. "It is easy being loyal to the ones in power, but staying loyal to someone who isn't perched in the heavens is an entirely different thing."

"I agree. But when you choose to stay with that someone through heavens or hell or anything in between, it's not about loyalty anymore, but about sincere and unconditional attachment. Or devotion."

"I have never been on the receiving end of that either. Not before… you."

"Well, then you better get used to it now." Robin kept her gaze fixed on his, giving him an encouraging smile along with her words, while however she tried her best to suppress the hollowing sadness that crept through the cracks of her mind upon his words. She knew the feeling all too well… having to run after people's affection if she wanted to receive any at all. Never being a first choice, never being the one others were devoted to. But all that had changed, he had brought that change into her life. And she was beyond glad to hear that she was doing the same for him. "Because I have no intention to stop. No matter what you do, what anyone does, I won't stop bothering you."

"Good." The smirk was back, as was a hint of a tease. "Who would keep me from drinking my coffee until it goes cold if not my favourite nuisance?"

"Hey!" Robin laughed at last, glad that the tension in the room was finally resolved entirely. "Without that nuisance, you wouldn't be here drinking coffee in the first place."

"Indeed, I would long be dead by now."

"Why on earth is that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He quirked an eyebrow at her in that lovely feigned indifference. "If I had been alone with all those dunderheads over the years, I would long have perished from all the unsolicited nonsense and sheer idiocy of the common student. Or… the common professor."

Robin let out a way too loud snort, then an almost helpless giggle, and finally just had to grin down at her almost cold coffee. When her face finally wasn't a telltale of sheer adoration anymore, she looked up once again only to find Snape stifling a smile as well. Yeah, they probably would be alright from here on. If only Robin would stop wanting yet more.

______________________________

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[strengthrequireskindness]

Revelations

This is a three-part Halloween fic based on a prompt by @quillsareswords! Since I've been inexcusably inactive lately, I hope this makes up for it!

Title is because I have a major thing for biblical references though I myself am agnostic

----

PROLOGUE

Halloween, one year ago

"I can't believe we have to patrol on Halloween!" Jamila threw up her hands as she paced along the rooftop. An hour into their stakeout had yielded nothing. She was not happy about it.

A flash of green heralded the arrival of her younger twin. His trademark scowl was firmly in place.

"Ttt. You would really rather beg for candy in childish costumes?"

"Better than tracking down a murder suspect that hasn't been seen in months. Do you really think he'd go back to his old house? That's practically asking to be caught."

Damian tutted. His cape swished as he made his way over to her. "He's eluded the GCPD for months now. It's likely why Father sent us."

Jamila couldn't argue with that. While Damian was undoubtedly skilled in combat, his occasional arrogance sometimes caused him to overlook things. She was more subdued, preferring to observe and investigate. Although she would fight if it came to that.

As Blackbird and Robin, they were a dynamic sibling duo, as Dick called it. Though not in front of Damian. The last time he'd done so, her brother had insulted his Discowing fashion choices for eight minutes straight.

"Let's review things-perhaps there's something we've missed." If nothing else, it was something to do.

Damian adjusted the sword at his belt, fiddling with the hilt. While Jamila knew steel blades were out of the question, wooden practice swords packed a punch and might even cause a concussion if used correctly.

"I doubt you would have missed anything."

"Is that a compliment from my brother? What is going on? Should I check to see if we're in a parallel universe?"

"Shut up, Blackbird," he muttered.

"Ooh, scary. Anyway, our lucky winner tonight is Godfrey Nash. Five foot nine, brown eyes, blonde hair, slightly overweight. He worked for Wayne Enterprises before being fired two years ago. In May, the bodies of three women were discovered in his apartment. By then, he'd already skipped town."

She paused. "Background checks say Nash has a history of violence. He got suspended in ninth grade for slamming a kid's face into a chain-link fence. He was also fired from his first job for slashing a coworker's tires."

"So we're looking for a psychopath." Damian's eyes narrowed.

"Not necessarily. It's possible he's just very bad at managing anger."

Her twin scoffed. "That's obvious. I did find something at the crime scene."

"Oh?" Jamila hadn't been able to go to the crime scene because she'd been recovering from a scuffle with Scarecrow. Damian had been forced to take over her usual spot.

"Well, it's what I didn't find that is notable. There wasn't a murder weapon or fingerprints."

"What? Weren't the bodies slashed beyond recognition?"

"Yes, but then or since there has been no knife or something similar found."

She sighed. "So possible metahuman involvement, then. That might explain the lack of prints on the bodies."

"Likely, though Croc has been quiet."

"A new player?"

"Newcomers usually go for Father first. We would have heard about that."

As if Damian had summoned him, Jamila's earpiece buzzed. She switched it on, unsurprised to hear Batman's voice on the other end.

Her relationship with their father wasn't as close as Damian's. While Damian had been discovered first by Bruce, it took some time before the man had trusted her brother enough to believe his stories about a sibling.

Her brother and father found her four years after Damian's defection. She nearly killed Bruce upon their first encounter out of fury and resentment. It took a combined effort by her brother and Nightwing to calm her down. Repeated efforts involving the entire Batfamily taught her to trust others.

She'd forgiven him. Both of them were trying to be closer. But she'd never forget the feeling of knowing that help was out there and wasn't coming.

"Blackbird, report." His voice, as always, sounded like he was gargling with gravel.

"No movement from the house, aside from several police officers taking down the crime scene tape. It's been five months since the bodies were found, so that's not suspicious."

She swallowed before making her pitch. "There's been no sign of Nash and we've been here for sixty minutes. May we take a short break to go trick-or-treating?"

"Negative. There's been a development."

Jamila choked down her disappointment before responding. It wouldn't do to complain to her father. Batman was not the kind of man who changed his mind without good reason. "What is it?"

"Facial recognition confirmed the first victim's identity. It's Delilah Dearborn."

"Wasn't she the socialite you took to the charity gala?"

"Yes."

The answer confirmed her growing suspicions. "Father, tell Tim to calibrate the facial recognition software for women you've taken to public events. I know you're busy with Justice League business. But he isn't."

"All right. I'll have him patch into your comms when he's done. Batman out."

The earpiece went dead. Jamila turned to Damian, who was giving her a dirty look.

"Drake? Really?"

"I know you don't like him. He's better at technology than either of us."

"Ttt. Very well." He crossed his arms, looking for all the word like a petulant little boy instead of a badass vigilante. The fact that he was doing this while pacing along the far side of the roof didn't help matters.

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "What's on your mind, sister?"

"One of the victims is someone Father took to a gala. I'm following a hunch. Maybe this is more than just anger issues."

No sooner had she finished her sentence than her earpiece buzzed again. One switch directed her to Tim's voice. He sounded equal parts tired and thoughtful.

"Tim. What do you have?"

"Well, your instincts are spot on, as usual." Furious typing echoed from the other end of the line. "I've recalibrated the software. Matches for the other two victims popped up almost instantly. Marinda Ayotunde and Jessica Blake both dated Bruce. At least that's what the tabloids say. And get this-they're both rich and famous. Ayotunde was related to African royalty. Blake was the CEO of Lionheart Solutions. It's a private security firm that protects society's elites."

"So Nash is resentful of Bruce because Bruce's company fired him. He's resentful of wealthy people too?"

"One out of two. Blake wasn't significantly wealthy yet, but she's famous enough to make it into local papers. My guess is Nash doesn't like people who are significant. He deserves to be significant and they don't."

"Would that extend to the Batfamily?"

It was a pertinent question. Tim's answer would reflect how they proceeded. So Jamila was paying close attention to her earpiece when it happened.

Something grabbed at her leg.

It was a strong grip, far too strong to be human. She struggled. The grip held firm. She bit back a scream as she was yanked off the side of the building.

The impact with the top of the dumpster knocked the wind out of her, sending a spike of pain through her stomach. Definitely a bruised rib if not worse.

Enough self-diagnosis, she chided herself. You're under attack.

A growl from behind her caught her attention. She turned, drawing her bo staff off her back. It annoyed Damian that she used the same weapon as Tim. But that wasn't relevant.

One look at the thing in front of her and she knew that her weapon wasn't going to cut it.

It stood taller than six feet, covered in a ragged coat of what seemed like fur. Gleaming claws curled out of its huge hands and feet. Harsh yellow eyes and a long snout completed the look.

Jamila knew what this was. This couldn't possibly be it. In a world where even her grandfather stayed alive for eternities due to science, a werewolf simply wasn't part of the equation.

It opened its mouth and roared. She saw slavering fangs and breath that stank worse than anything she'd ever smelled before it lunged.

The dumpster saved her. As the monster surged forward, she dodged to the side. She slipped behind the green container and shoved it forward.

It caught the wolf square in the chest, but at a price. The heavy weight dulled her reflexes with predictable results. Her foot caught against a stray bag and sent her plunging forward.

She smacked into the pavement, her hands scraping against the concrete. Panic overtook her now and she scrabbled at the ground for purchase.

Jamila pushed herself upright just as the wolf's (she was calling it that because it couldn't possibly have the were portion of the name) claws raked into her right shoulder. She hissed in pain and thrust her bo staff forward with everything she had.

And the wolf caught it.

She stared in disbelief. This thing had just blocked a full-strength attack with no effort at all. It looked at the staff, tilting its head to the side. A growl rumbled outwards, nearly as loud as the blood rushing in her ears.

The bo staff was yanked out of her hands with no warning at all, clattering to the pavement like a broken toy. The momentum drove Jamila forward, and the wolf took advantage of that. It took her injured arm with its free clawed hand and ripped.

She screamed now, blood pooling out of the remains of her suit's right sleeve. It hurt. It hurt so much she couldn't think straight. How did it do that so fast and so effectively? How could she survive this?

Even with pain clouding her sight, she could see the wolf striding towards her with the walk of something that knows it's won. She raised her leg and kicked out, a last desperate defense against what she knew was coming.

The wolf swatted it aside like a bothersome fly.

A deep rumbling laugh echoed from inside it as her vision darkened. She'd heard that laugh on many a surveillance feed. Stakeouts weren't only visual.

"Oh, I like you. Maybe I'll take you after all."

There was a fierce stabbing pain, a sensation like her organs rearranging themselves, then inky blackness.

---

Part Two will be up tomorrow! Thanks again to @quillsareswords for their excellent inspiration for this!