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#he’s just living his best magician life and i am very proud of him :’)
nemmet · 9 months
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i can’t believe that be cool scooby doo is a show that actually exists (/pos)
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writingonesdreams · 2 years
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AU tag game
Rules: I dare you to make an AU of a WIP on the spot and fill in the following intro categories
AU title: Demon Deal AU
Setting: A country with a dimensional rift that allowed magic in also divided it into four parts: magical, demonic, post-apocalyptic and modern.
Concept:
The main cast of Tears of Iron made a deal with a demon god for a special power in exchange for a supernatural price that can't cost them their life. They all made the contract to get out of the demonic dimension. Now they are in the magical dimension, but as brainwashed slaves of an organisation that wanted to use those powers for themselves (god powered magicians are a jackpot).
Zephyr erased everyone's memories to make them work for the organisation willingly (less risky resistance), so they would forget their contracts and couldn't use their powers (and therefore wouldn't have to pay the price).
If you don't remember the contract, you can't be paying for it.
Zephyr is the only one who remembers and uses his power to the max to spare the others, since he doesn't consider his price to be as high (he pays in internal bleeding and pain in equal time he uses his magic. He can't die from it, so it's cool, right?)
Aesthetics: white sandy beach by a steel grey sea, a giant rusty red bridge leading nowhere, a great forest with neon green luminescent spots on the bark, dark blue smog over a city cast in eternal twilight, the invisible pillars of shimmering power at the boarders
Tiny scene/line:
Leander looked at Zephyr's pristine black suit and stony face and leaned on the wall as far away as possible.
"You know, Skye keeps telling us you aren't a traitor. That you did all of this to protect us. In your own sick way, but still."
Zephyr leaned against the wall opposite him, burying his hands in his pockets. Not very stylish, but he was so tired of pretending and keeping strong. His friends has always been his source of comfort, their joyful expressions, their carefree laughts, sparkling eyes.
The beautiful painfree lives he had provided them in the best world possible.
But since they found out the truth, they have become endlessly tiring to be around.
"I'm trying to understand it, I really am," Leander continued, "but it's freaking insane. The more I think about it, the more I hate it."
Zephyr sighted and looked at his wrist watch. How long still? How many of these lectures is he going to suffer through?
Suddenly he was yanked by the collar. Leander's eyes were dangrously close, flashing like lighting before the storm starts.
"Excuse me, for not being thankful, that my best friend has erased and filled me with aritifical memories of his own choosing and regularly bleeds himself dry in his own twisted version of justice. In what hellish universe is this okay?"
"I really don't know what bothers you so much."
"The control! The pain! The pain you choose for yourself, for us, without us having a say! That you made this deal about us, without us and you are even freaking damn proud of it!"
Leander's voice broke at the end and he leaned into him, hands shaking, forehead against Zephyr's shoulder.
"What's my part of the deal? Why won't you let me find out?"
The raven just pressed his lips together and looked to the side.
"What if there is a way to find out? If I had chosen a deal,... wouldn't I have chosen to spare you from this?"
Zephyr winced.
A mistake.
Leander was still holding on to him, watching him from under his eyelashes like a hawk. He felt it.
"I would, wouldn't I." The blond rised his head. "That's it. That's what I would choose now, and that's what I would have chosen back then. And that's why you can't let me find out. It would counterattack your wish, your deal."
Zephyr didn't manage to stop himself from shaking his head in horrified denial, pushing Leander away from him. But the blond held on tight, clawing his fists in his clothes.
"And if the deal is countered by the means not of your doing,...you will be free."
Tagging if you want to play: @thewalkingnerdx @sleepyowlwrites @bloodlessheirbyjacques @catharticallysarcastic @myhusbandsasemni @avrablake @circa-specturgia @muddshadow @sharraus
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ac3id · 4 years
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The Artist and His Majesty| 18+
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𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒿𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓎 0 / 5 | fantasy au. 
chapter i , chapter ii
pairings: yandere! emperor! shigaraki x female! reader.
warnings: [series] dubcon, exhibitionism, size difference, degradation, masturbation, bondage, reader is also kind of delusional, death, violence (not on reader). (there are more but i can’t think right now.]
↪ for chapter 0: none !!
summary: you come to the big city in hopes of starting your career as an artist but things take a shocking turn when you’re recruited as the court painter for the royal palace.
↪ for chapter 0: a strange man approaches you, offering to buy your painting to which you oblige. little do you know that it kicks of a series of unfortunate events ending with you being trapped in shigaraki tomura’s clutches forever.
wordcount. 
a/n: finally !! i started this series. high-key inspired by these two dresses in my wardrobe and @ana-list‘s this  drawing ! seriously it’s literally everything. also thank you once again for proof reading this @the-grimm-writer ! 
taglist: @shigaraki-is-my-master, @deathmemeiverse, @n4dhii, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @mstssister, @nereida19, @prince-zukohere [dm to be added/ removed.]
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“That’s a beautiful painting,” a rough, scruffy voice calls out, jerking you away from your daydreams. Your grip around the color canvas resting in your arms tightens as you glance behind your shoulder to see a well-built man standing right behind you. He’s tall and a lot older than you, he has short grey hair which falls right before his eyebrows along beautiful, matching grey eyes. A cigar hangs lazily from his lips as he occasionally huffs on it, blowing clouds of smoke out his mouth. He’s dressed in expensive robes, a choice of style only people better off could afford. You can’t help exachaning a covetous glance between his expensive suit and your sloppy, knee-length, light green dress. “Thank you.” you murmur shoving him an appreciative look, hoping he’d leave you alone. When you come to the city to complete your studies in art, you mother, father, family and friends had warned you about men like these. Rich, snobby men who liked to lure in young, naive girls. Whispering praises of how they are the most unique on the planet so they pull their guard down form them to take advantage of the helpless beings. 
“Can I take a better look? It’s the Emperor, is it not? Your painting. ” You hesitate before turning back to him. Not a lot of people had seen the King to be. He lived humbly in his castle, trying his best to not indulge in the affairs of the common people. “ Yes,” you hold up the slightly small canvas (courtesy of you being broke the entire week and not being able to save up to buy a bigger canvas). To even get an idea of Shigaraki Tomura, you had to go through many people. Not a lot of people had seen his face, he had always kept it hidden under a mask. No one knew why he did so but the many conspiracy throes suggested it was something to do with his personal grief.
 You had heard many stories about him. Some made him look like a spoiled brat with a demeaning, ignorant personality who didn’t care for others and as the rumors said: self destructive habits which lead him to tear the skin of his own neck down whenever he got anxious or frustrated. 
Others portrayed him as a strong, confident man and a reliable leader who cared for his comrades. You did not know which one of the two personas brought him your attention but you couldn’t complain. Tomura had caught you under a spell, and despite never meeting him (and knowing full well you never would), you were still ready to sacrifice your life for him. He was your King even before he had taken his crown, to you he looked like a shining bright light ready to enlighten you. To you, he was a god. And as years passed by, he grew from a caterpillar into a cocoon which was ready to burst open as a butterfly into the beautiful, mysterious world. And it was happening today, Prince Tomura Shigaraki’s Coronation ceremony. After the passing of All For One, it was his turn to take the crown and fulfill his duty as the ruler of the nation
 The entire city was busy, bustling with people. Families, friends and everyone in between gathered around the huge castle walls as they waited for the ceremony to begin. They waited patiently, filled with excitement and joy as they waited to catch a glimpse of the new great King. You were among them. You had come down to the centre of the city with your friends, waiting alongside many to catch a glimpse of the new ruler. The painting which nestled in your hand was something you were hoping to sell today, to a shop or anyone who wants to have it. It was a beautiful painting which had taken you several days to complete, and dare you say it, you were quite proud of it. From all the things you had heard about Tomura, you had managed to sketch him decently. Long white, wavy hair reaching till his shoulder, skin white as snow. He sat proudly on his throne wearing a cape with his vermillion eyes peering through your soul. His face was scarcely detailed as you did not have much idea about it but he still looked ethereal. With little scars running both his eyes and a comparatively larger one on his right. Chapped lips with even more scars running over them wildly, he was not conventionally attractive. No one would call him a pretty boy yet there was something more, something alluring which attracted  you to him. His beauty was rare, not in the grasp of many but if it was grasped and held close to the heart, it was hard to let go off. And you found him attractive, very attractive. 
The man took a good look at your painting, examining it carefully and for a second you really thought he had seen the mysterious Prince. “It’s quite similar to him,” he sends you a friendly grin and you notice a tooth from his front missing, leaving an uncomfortable gap. “Have you seen him before?” he asked and you shake your head, no. He gives you an amused expression, “I must say, you are very talented, miss…?” you complete your name with a nervous smile. “And you are?” you ask. 
You realised that you were getting a little too comfortable with the stranger and it could be a really bad decision but you can’t help but give him the benefit of the doubt as he behaves like a gentleman you can find yourself to trust. “Kagero Okuta but I like to go by Giran,” he says with a lop-sided grin. Giran, you’ve heard the name before but cannot recall where and how. It sounds so familiar but you just can’t grasp it, he looked wealthy so you assumed he was a Noble and that made you even more curious as to why he was speaking to you.
 “What are you planning to do with that painting?” he asks, diving a closer look and admiring its features. “I must say, you’ve got it quite accurate but,” you stiffen, your hands growing cold as your heartbeat picks up. You realized your painting must have some complications, drawing a man you had never seen before purely out of your interpretation was a hard and a bold task to do. But to have someone who had actually seen the King for himself pinpoint your mistakes sent a rush of anxiety through your veins.
 “He’s not that bony.” He completes and you gulp nervously, looking down at your painting in disappointment. Your eyes are filled with disappointment,  all of the time and effort you spent making the piece all for it go in vain just because you missed a small detail. Giran notices your remorse and speaks up, “But that’s quite alright. He looked just like that until a while ago,” he hadn’t meant to offend or hurt you. He still believed your painting was the most beautiful thing he had seen all day.
 “What do you mean?” you ponder, giving him a perplexed look. He leans  in closer to you as if to tell a secret, “let’s say the King has been working out behind closed doors.” you blink in confusion. It was a strange thing to say, exactly how well did this man know the Emperor? Who was it that you were talking? 
“Who are you?” you can’t help but question, bewildered by such a character. Giran says nothing. He just stares at you with his lips curled into a snappy smirk, holding his cigar between his lips. He was not going to tell you anything. Without wasting time, he quickly changes the topic. “What are you going to do with that painting?” he repeats, his voice growing impatient.
 “I am planning to sell it,” you feel a bit taken back. The friendly aura which had Giran had now disappeared for a reason you could not conclude. “Sell it? To whom?” the intruding nature of his tone starts to make you uncomfortable, there’s nothing more you want to do other than get far away from him. Yet you still find yourself answering him, “To anyone who wants it.” he hums at your response, his eyes holding a mocking glint. “Wouldn’t you like to give it to the Emperor himself?” you frown, was he mocking you? 
“That’s well...impossible.” you reply, stretching your neck awkwardly. “To you, maybe.” 
You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, this man was really testing your patience. A part of you tells you to ignore him and walk away but as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a bag of coins worth much more than you could ever earn in a month, he has you hooked yet again. 
“Hey, let me buy that painting, would yer’?” 
.
..
..
“What is the problem now?” Giran takes a seat around the round table. It was late after the Coronation ceremony and the Royal palace was already facing problems. Giran was disappointed but definitely not surprised. After all, he was their personal problem solver and broker. “It’s not that big of a deal.” A curt and hard reply cut him off.
 “It actually is, Shigaraki Tomura.” a voice speaks, coming from a man dressed in a black suit with a long, flowy robe covering his entire body. He stands taller than the other two men in the as his head is replaced with a wisp of smoke. He was none other than the trusted and talented magician of the Royal family. With eccentric features and an ability to wield strange magic, nobody knew where he came from. There were many rumors about him; that he was once a normal, handsome man cursed by a witch that turned him into a hideous monster or he simply was a ghost. “What is it, Kurogiri?” Giran rephrases his question, directing it to the other man. “We need a new painter,-” 
“Servant.” Shigaraki corrected. He stood in front of the giant windows glancing over his city as his men talked about hiring a new painter for the castle. He couldn’t care less about such tedious tasks, he had his focus set on greater things like expanding his territory, taking back stolen land. 
“What happened to Mr. Kyo?” Giran asked, Shigaraki rolled his eyes at the mention of the name and clicked his tongue, “His Majesty eliminated him.” Giran stops himself from laughing out loud. He was certain once Shigaraki would take over the throne incidents like so would double the instant. But he was expecting it to happen so soon. “And why was that?” 
“He was breathing too loud, like you are right now.” 
A cold silence broke over the room as Giran counted his breath. Kurogiri looked nervously at Shigaraki who still had his back turned to them. The longer the pause grew, the dreadful the atmosphere became. Shigaraki’s threat strung the air loud and clear and Giran was afraid to speak again. “What we are asking for is that-,” Kurogiri started in a calm, slow tone easing the tension in the room. “-we need a new court painter. Do you have any names?” 
The murderous sent in the air magically disappeared as a grin stretched across Giran’s face. 
“Aren’t you in luck?” He says, running a hand through his hair before taking a puff out of his cigar. “Does that mean you know someone?” Kurogiri questioned. Giran hummed, “You see, I met this beautiful painter today. She’s extremely talented and I know for a fact she will love working for the castle.” 
“What’s the name?” growing impatient, Shigaraki asks. “Oh, it was,” Giran pauses for a moment to recall. 
“Ah yes, Y/N L/N.” 
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kireii-writes · 4 years
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Hello, can you please write headcanons for how the adultrio (separately) would break it to someone that they've caught their romantic interest? Thank you!
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- hisoka doesn’t know how to act around someone he truly likes. this is why when trying to break it to you that you’ve caught the interest of this murderous magician, he’s going to be so extra, just to see you embarrassed and flustered. 
- he’s most likely going to show up unannounced at your work/school just to see you flustered at the attention he’s drawing to you. 
- also most likely to show up at your place unannounced and make himself at home. you could be getting ready for bed, and he’ll show himself into your house through the window and smile at you while you almost have a heart attack.
- hisoka loves to tease the people around him but if you caught his interest romantically, get ready for a ton more of teasing from where it came from. 
- “aww y/n, are you shy? do i make you that flustered?” hisoka teased. 
- the more people witnessing your embarrassment, the better for him. 
- when you straight up ask him why is he acting this way, he’s going to cheekily say something like “because why not?” before strutting away like nothing happened. 
- he doesn’t know how to break it to you that he’s interested in you and is too proud to do it, so you have to be the one to catch onto his antics and in turn tease him about it.
-
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- illumi knows nothing about being interested in anyone, much less it being romantically. which is why once he realizes he’s interested in you romantically, he’s going to be very straightforward, courtesy of his poor social skills.
- he’s going to directly invite you somewhere, be it for dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town, or the Zoldyck estate. 
- throughout the whole time he’s spending with you, he’s going to constantly ask you questions like: 
- “y/n, are you comfortable?”
- “are you happy?”
- illumi’s going to buy you whatever you want or need. even if you made a small comment like “wow, that’s so pretty”, he’s going to get that item for you. 
- heck, he might even buy a whole building for you just because he brought you up to the roof once and you said “the view is so breathtaking”. 
- when you ask him to stop spending so much money on you, he’s genuinely confused.
- “don’t be silly y/n. how else am i going to spend my money?” 
- illumi would no doubt clear his schedule just to have time to stalk you or bring you out on dates. somehow, he knows what you’re doing at a specific time of the day and what you do next. let’s be real he made milluki put a tracking device in your phone. 
- he enjoys bringing you to your favorite places and stare at you throughout the whole time. nobody knows what’s going through his mind. 
- he’s going to be so direct with you since he doesn’t know how to be subtle his whole life.
- which is why when you ask him what’s going on, he’s going to say , “because i’m interested in you, y/n. at least, that’s what milluki and wikihow told me.” 
- the best part? illumi says it with a straight face, never smiling or blushing when he admits his feelings. 
-
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- out of these 3, chrollo’s the one who’s the smoothest and most charming. 
- like any other normal person, he’s going to subtly flirt and laugh with you, so much so that you actually enjoy his company. 
- he has a charismatic personality and can play the role of anyone with unwavering confidence. 
- chrollo’s going to take you out for a casual stroll in the park as the both of oyu laugh together, or bring you to a quiet cafe where he sits next to you and listen to you speak as the both of you watch people going about their daily lives outside the cafe. 
- he’s going to send you flowers or handwritten notes filled with poetry or sugary words that would make everyone weak in the knees. not only that, he knows how to make you feel wanted and loved, as if the whole world was against you and he’s the only one supporting you.  
- every time he sees you, chrollo’s going to say things that would make you want to go out with him again. 
- “i missed you so much after you left, y/n.” 
- “i’m so happy i got to see your lovely face again.” 
- he’s going to play the role of a gentleman and he plays it very well indeed. he’ll walk you home every time he brings you out, and tell you how much he looks forward to seeing you again soon. 
- chrollo may be interested in you, but he’s not going to tell you first. instead, he’ll make you tell him that you’re in love with him. 
- of course, he’s going to act surprised and then smile at you before cupping your face and saying something like
- “i know you do, y/n.”
- once you’re too caught up in his web of lies, he’ll finally reveal his true identity to you.
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lonclyhcartsclub · 3 years
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A World Alone // Self Para
TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of death, parental death, lost consciousness, mentions of a coma, injury, violence, fighting, hospitals, alcohol, smoking, knife mention
𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄: Josephine Perez.  𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: The Woods, near the Equinox Fair.  𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: Alexander Soliel, AJ Prasad, Emery Woods, Devon Hale, Savana Bisanti, Reuben Garcia, Milo Pierce, Garrick Wan, Clara Blanchard, Nur Kutlar.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: As her world fades to black, magician Josephine Perez looks back on her life and the people within it as her life flashes before her eyes. 
Did AJ or Josie see the Strigoi coming? Of course they didn’t. Both of them had been so caught up in the fact that their magical capabilities were no longer existent that they hadn’t heard the feet in the distance.
That was, until they were descended upon and Josie did what she would have always done, completely on instinct.
She gave AJ a swift push, and told him to run.
While she was able to fight her way out using the small amount of magic she could muster — it had become clear from the look on her face that there was little hope in her eyes. Josephine Perez had been gravely injured and was dying where she stood.
Of course, the other had leapt into action with the intention to save his friend — carrying the both of them to a nearby shelter, where the next battle began to keep her eyes open.
Jo couldn’t really tell what AJ had said, but it had looked like some kind of apology. Like he was sorry she got hurt even though she had made the conscious decision to push him out of the way.
The woman just smiled, holding a piece of her cardigan to one of her many bleeding wounds. Her own bravery had saved them both, after all.
“I’m not” we’re the last two words the magician said before she closed her eyes.
———
Josephine had not known what a world alone looked like before. Not like this one. Sure, As her eyes closed for what she thought would be the very last time, what she saw was a hell of a lot different than what she saw in her nightmares. It was way worse, simply nothing but a black expanse and the sounds of her labored breathing ringing in her ears. She didn’t know a heart as big as hers could sound this loud, practically echoing across wherever the hell this was. 
Then came their faces, flashing from one crevice of her mind to another like scenes from a movie. The last time she’d practically gaze on any of them had been intended to be a break from what was happening. It was supposed to be one of the best days of their lives, yet now, the bleakness had swallowed it whole. The magician didn’t even know if she’d live to see the aftermath, but part of her was at peace with that. She had always told herself if I die, if something happens to me, I will have given Evan everything I have. Every single ounce of love I could offer. The little boy would have a whole family of people who think the world of him, cheering him on. Even though she knew she wasn’t conscious, the very thought of that brought a smile to her face. Even at the end of her story, he was still her everything. He would always stay that way. 
He had Emery, Devon and AJ, to help him navigate the magical world and become the best damn magician the world would ever come to know. Savana would be his biggest fan; there was no one who could be anyone’s personal cheerleading squad like she could. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten about Alex and Milo. No harm would possibly come to that little boy. Not when they were around. 
Milo. Oh my god, Milo. Even in near death, the name made her heart lurch. How was it only now that she could finally admit to herself what she might possibly never get to say to his face? Her own self-consciousness might have just stopped her from what could have been the craziest adventure of her life. Of course she loved him. How could she not? Out of everyone in the world, he gave her all of himself without even giving a second thought. Ward or not. 
She could see him now, soaring through the air like a bat out of hell and setting the world ablaze. I never wanted to hurt you. She wished she could have said, blue pendent in hand. I could never, because holy fuck, the feelings for you are something I’ve been so scared of for so long and I don’t know why. You are everything I’ve ever needed and I wish I could have told you. She had told Emery once: “Go get him and never let him go,” but now he’d never know. Even from death, she would will him all of the most beautiful things in life, and hope that he could have the life she couldn’t give him. He had probably dashed through every inch of the fairground, looking for her. Maybe he still was -- seeking the concept of time seemed to be for naught here. All she knew was she wanted to run to him. She wanted to run to him, wrap her arms around him and never let him go.
As the world caved in, she could have been in the one place that felt like home to her.
Maybe that was something Milo and Savana could finally agree on, setting the world on fire. Savana Bisanti was a whirlwind, a beautiful one at that. She would keep her son strong and remind him just how beautiful he was, without fail. She had always done the same for Jo, after all. The Moroi had brought out a side of her that she had thought to be long dead and made her feel free and young again. Thank you, Savana. Thank you for making me feel alive. She couldn’t help but even think of Reuben, as random as that sounded. Josie had never been given any reason to hate the man. In fact, all their interactions had been seemingly cordial. None the less, he was her protector now. For the love of god, man, if you break her heart I will make your life a living hell. Give her diamonds, give her every ounce of love you have in your heart. She deserves it. After everything and what I’m about to put her through. 
God, Sav. I’m so sorry. 
Emery Woods. He would have to sit on the stoop alone now, cigarette in hand, watching the world go on without her in it. I’m so sorry I broke our promise. There’s a long way from now until eighty. Someone else would always have to be right, for it could no longer could be her. The woman could feel herself coming undone at the thought. Life without Emery in it for her didn’t exist. At least he had Alex. For the love of god, she thought, tears streaming down her cheeks -- in this world alone, just drive to Vegas already. Pour a beer for me and know that I will be watching, loving you endlessly. 
Alexander Soliel had been one of the first people who didn’t make her feel judged. He made her laugh like no one else and when someone hurt her, he was always the first to go to bat for her. A brother, if you will. The closest thing to one that she would ever have and ever get. She could hear Evan’s voice in her dancing across the space like a broken record and as she wanted to call out for him, she was reminded that Alex would be able to go to him. He would know how hard she had fought just to stay alive. It wasn’t anything she could have helped, anything she could have stopped. Tell him all the things we did.. when he’s old enough. He’d give Evan a picture of his mom to hang onto as he grew. 
The thought of Garrick holding Devon as she cried shattered her very conscious like glass. Her person. Growing up she had only known the fakes and the phonies and nothing had felt real, but simply a simulation. Then the blonde had come into her life, with her bright blue eyes and hypnotizing smile that just drew you in as if you were coming home. My best friend. In a way, she was beating herself up. How could you leave Devon like this, without saying goodbye. You’ll never get to return that I love you that you had shrugged off. Josie wanted to scream for five more minutes, just five more minutes on solid ground for the chance to help her understand that she had to do this. You will always be my person, Devon Hale. No matter how far away I am from you. No matter if I get out of this pit or not. 
This world, alone.
AJ Prasad. The very person she had done it for. Dampened powers aside, the pair had fought and run like hell. He had been the last person she saw before she had entered this place and now, he was her final hope. His very life was in her hands. 
Of course, she didn’t know what was happening overhead, but she hoped he was running. Run, AJ. As fast as your legs can carry you. Live a long, happy life with Cydele. Love with every single breath you take. Fight for her, just as I fought for you. Get the hell out of this town with her, before it’s too late.
She had give him a second chance. If she had tried anything else, they would have gotten to him. 
Ever the protector, until the very end. In a way, she was proud that she had stayed true to that side of herself. The people she was leaving behind would understand. If she could stop the death of someone she cared about by leaving this world, she would do it. Not that she didn’t think her life didn’t matter, but her friends had so much goodness to offer the world. 
There was nothing in this world she wouldn’t do to say one more I love you to every single one of those faces. 
“Professor Perez? Professor Perez!”
The voice ripped through the silent blackness like a knife, but it was a sweet one. Clara Blanchard. She was calling out to her and the last thing Jo needed to pull herself out. To wake up.
Opening her eyes was like coming up from underneath the ocean to the surface again. As the air filled her lungs, she could hear the muttering voices of a group of healers around her and the quiet sobs of relief coming from one. Clara. The familiar face of Professor Kutlar was the first one she saw. The look on her face was one of relief, considering the extent of her injuries. It was very likely that Jo could have died, but she hadn’t. She was there and she was staring at the other woman like she was the most beautiful being in the world.
“…Where’s my son?” Were the first words Josie was able to muster, still weak. “Where is he?”
Clara made her way back over, taking Josie’s hand. “He’s outside, and Professor Pierce is too. He’s been waiting here ever since.” She murmured, stroking the hair in Josie’s eyes away from her face as a sign of comfort. “You’ve been out a couple of days… I know there’s going to be a lot of people who are very happy to see you.”
See her. Josephine Perez was alive. The woman had endured one of the closest brushes with death even possible, and she had made it out.
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awed-frog · 3 years
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jonathan stroud interview
Lucca Comics 2020
[Here is the link, but I don’t know how it works and if you can rewatch the event...it was a weird streaming interview, they lost a lot of time with the translation but the questions were interesting. I’m sorry I missed the part with Licia Troisi, but I was busy writing down Stroud’s answers and I couldn’t possibly do both.
Stroud appeared at his home (?); his study is 90% books - most of them looked part of a series, probably a demon hunting encyclopedia or something - and 10% weird artefacts, like a pharaoh’s bust.
Troisi and Stroud were interviewed by YA expert and editor Chiara Codecà.]
Where do your stories come from?
I start with a little scene between two characters, or a piece of dialogue. For The Bartimaeus Sequence, it was about a boy magician and a djinn, and the confrontation between them; the energy of the book comes from this initial confrontation. For Lockwood & Co, I had a boy and a girl coming to a house in London, knocking at the door...they had swords, were there to fight ghosts. I knew nothing about the story and who those guys were, but I loved the energy and wrote the story from there. 
Fantasy books always start with tiny acorns. As a writer you have to get excited by what you're doing...many times I try writing something and it has no life, but when I find a tiny scene that has life, I get excited, I think "I will stay with this and see if I can build it into something bigger".
Methods of working? 
I need to have discipline and write a certain number of words every day. I need a roadmap and to know where I'm going, but when I start it's very bad, there is no detailed structure at all, just a series of loose ideas and themes. Often I'll improvise for quite a while, write 50 or 60 pages of scenes, trying, and nothing really works...But I am looking for the story, for the right atmosphere, eventually a structure emerges and then I'll follow it and write chronologically. But that early bit is just about hunting and searching. I wish it wasn't like this because it's really slow! For the current book, I needed 2 years of work! It's a slow process for me. 
It is a mechanism, a complicated mechanism. Sometimes you start with a little piece on the inside, which works, you know it works, it's characters or a scene, you know it's good and a useful piece of technology, but at that point you need to figure out what goes on the outside. Often I have to take time to figure out how the bigger machine works from the tiny piece of engine I already have: what machine does this belong to? It's like you have to figure out what the car looks like, its purpose and colour and everything. That comes later for me.
Role of your previous life as an editor?
Being an editor is a noble profession, and an important one! For me it was essential to begin like this because it taught me how to look at text, how not to be afraid of changing and manoeuvring, playing with text. Not being frightened of these things is important. As a writer you have to learn not to be frightened of the blank page and of change. As an editor you become more relaxed about that. Now, as a writer, I spend time on things, if it doesn't work, I change it, move it; I'm happy to play with it, and I think being relaxed about that is a great skill to learn.
(Licia Troisi mentions she's a fan and is also a fan of The Name of the Rose, which she read more than 20 times)
It's what we all aspire to as writers, we want to create something that's like a home, a welcoming house, where people can come in and they're your guests, you make them feel comfortable. As a child I read The Name of the Rose, of course, but also detective stories in general, they're interesting...I read Sherlock Holmes when I was 10, those books have that same quality, you enter this world, and it's complete and beautiful. When you're inside you think it's a special, cozy place, I reread them very often since. When I write I try to consciously imagine that effect on me: as a writer you try to bring a warmth. You have terrible things happening, murders and ghosts, but you want to have a warmth also, which the reader will sense. It's an important quality.
Any news on the new book?
I have it here, it’s almost finished, here is the manuscript: The Outlaws: Scarlett and Browne, it's really thick! It's about the same length as a Lockwood book. It's a fantasy, a new series. The original idea was to do a British western, so it's set in a version of England in the future: many strange things have happened, it's a different place, more dangerous, like the wild West in some way, but British. There are monsters and cannibals but also our heroes: our heroine is Scarlett McCain, she's an outlaw, robs the little town dotting the wilderness. She's tough and formidable, and she meets a young boy called Albert, who seems a little foolish and weak, she gets crossed with him a lot but he may be more interesting than she thought.
It will be out in the UK in the spring 2021.
How are you coping with the pandemic and has it leaked into your work?
It's an interesting one...For me I think I'm lucky with my existence, I'm able to carry on working, I'm so much more fortunate than many others. I carried on working, my children are running around the house but it's not a problem. For the work...I've been working on this book for two years, and as I was writing this year I realized it has echoes of the current situation - but I had been working on it even before the pandemic. One connection is that the world of Scarlett and Brown is a very chaotic and challenging world; many people kind of hide themselves away, shut their doors, don't want to engage with the world at all. My heroes are two very different people, but both have a positivity to them, they're not afraid to embrace the world and these changes. And as I was writing, this was important to me: the world has horrible things to it, but you have to face up to them even if it's hard.
Imaginary worlds: you have to set rules, but do you always abide by them? Have you broken any rules?
You try not to, it's a bad mistake to break rules. For a very small but annoying one, with The Bartimaeus Sequence...the 1st book is always the most difficult to write, you're inventing and figuring out the rules...and there is mention of a computer, just once, a magician using a computer, and it's not an important detail, but later, when I understood my world better, I understood how ludicrous it was! These guys use magic, they can use it for everything, so they never...their technology has not advanced in the way it is in our world. I was very angry at this foolish mistake. It's very hard to accept tiny errors. This is why the new book it has taken me two years, I was struggling to understand the world, change things around. I hope the 2nd book will be quicker!
(Comment from the audience) Discovering a new book for the first time, there's nothing like it.
Yes, it's what we're all looking for, both as a writer and a reader.
Writers who inspire you? Any recs for our listeners? Advice for new writers?
Licia is wise, she's a sage, I agree with her tips (ie, read everything, in multiple genres, and write stuff you enjoy writing, not in view of publication). You have to write for pleasure, absolutely, it's the fundamental thing; if you get it right you will pass that pleasure on to other people. Like Licia, I like to play with genres, so as a reader I have to try everything...I always liked fantasy, Ursula K. LeGuin and others, but I read everything...At the moment I'm reading George Orwell, and he talks about politics, literature, truth, and whether it's possible to be a writer in a moment democracy is under attack. It's a very important read, and he's on my mind a lot.
What is the book you got most emotional to write?
The 3rd book in The Bartimaeus Sequence, Ptolemy's Gate, has carried the most emotional weight for me. It's the ending, it brings the story of Nathaniel and Kitty to a close, so I was anxious to get it right, I was very concerned about the ending. But once it was on the page, I had this great feeling of emotional release, I knew this was the best ending I could do and I was very proud of it.
How do you approach a character? The depth of feeling you manage is amazing.
Writing a character is like getting to know a new friend. You need to like them, to be interested in them, to slowly uncover who they are. Initially I know what they look like, maybe a couple of other things, but as I write, I slowly discover their inner lives, their secrets, their flaws, their sense of humour...it takes me a long time to find those things, but you need to find them. These are people you're going to work with for years. It's a constant discovery, you need to treat them like friends.
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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years
Conversation
RP Meme from "A Bug's Life"
Where's the line?!
Do not panic. Do not panic! We are trained professionals. Now, stay calm.
We'll be stuck here forever!
I don't think we can do that.
That's it, that's it. Good. You're doing great. There you go!
Watch my eyes! Don't look away.
Just be confident, dear.
That's our lot in life. It's not a lot, but it's our life.
What did I tell you about trying to fly?
It's not my fault she's so stressed out.
I'm always acting like the sky is falling.
You could have killed somebody over here.
Please forgive me. I'm sorry!
My invention will speed up production.
Oh, another invention?
Aren't you looking lovely this morning!
I'm sorry, I was really just trying--trying to help.
I can make another one.
I'm beginning to think nothing I do works.
Great. One success.
I'm never gonna make a difference.
Being little's not such a bad thing.
Everything that made that giant tree is already contained inside this tiny little seed. All it needs is some time, a little bit of sunshine and rain, and voila!
You've gotta work with me, all right?
You might not feel like you can do much now, but that's just because, well, you're not a tree yet. You just have to give yourself some time. You're still a seed.
DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW A ROCK WHEN I SEE A ROCK?!
You're weird, but I like you.
C'mon! Keep moving! Keep moving!
It was an accident?
Where's the food?
Are you sure it's not up there?
Are you saying I'm stupid?
Do I look stupid to you?
Oh, I see! Under new management. So it's your fault.
First rule of leadership; Everything is your fault.
I swear, if I hadn't promised Mother on her deathbed that I wouldn't kill you, I would kill you!
Shut up! I don't want to hear another word out of you while we're on this island. Do you understand me?
Well, how can I answer? You said I couldn't say another word.
Listen, if you don't keep your end of the bargain, then I can't guarantee your safety.
Someone could get hurt.
You want her? Go ahead. Take her.
Let's ride!
I'm sorry for the way I am. I didn't mean for things to go so wrong.
I was just trying to help.
Then help us-- don't help us.
Perfect? What's so perfect?
Why didn't I think of that? Oh! Because it's suicide!
Who would do a crazy thing like that?
Wait a minute. What did we just decide here?
I won't let you down, I promise, I promise, I promise.
I should help repair the damage before I go.
Get back, you horrible beast!
I have no fear!
I have been in outhouses that didn't stink that bad.
This is ridiculous. What a disappointment!
You! Come here! I want my money back!
I hate performing on an empty stomach!
What's the point of going out there? They'll only laugh at me.
You parasite.
I am a cute little bumblebee! Here I come!
Candy corn! Here, let me help you to finish it.
They are poo-poo heads!
The stage is the other way, dear.
I'm gonna pick the hairs out of your head one by one!
Take your best shot!
That's no way to speak to a lady.
I heard that, you twig.
I demand to know who said that!
How dare you! Ingrates!
I only got 24 hours to live and I ain't gonna waste it here. Come on.
Aah! I've just about had it with these losers! Flaming death!
Water! We need some water!
You're all fired.
Burn him again!
Don't look at the light!
I can't help it! It's so beautiful!
Oh, sorry! Oh. I'm really, really sorry. That was an-an-an ac-ac-accident.
I'll show ya who's tough!
Oh, will you shut up?
Someday I will be a beautiful butterfly, and then everything will be better.
Farewell, my friends.
Shoo, fly. Don't bother me.
Not so tough now, are you?
Get up and fight like a girl.
What part can I play?
Justice is my sword and truth shall be my quiver!
No, no! I want to watch this!
Thrust, parry, lunge!
Me thinketh it's not working!
Help! Help! Get me out!
You can explain the details on the way.
Whoa, you're vicious!
This is insane.
Quit shoving!
We need a miracle!
Run for your lives!
Once again, our reputation precedes us.
Oh, my ticker!
Bingo! We gotta sweeten the deal.
You should be proud of yourself.
Oh, aren't they adorable!
Okay, honey. You're up.
I'm making a speech.
Shouldn't I come too?
No, classified in the D.M.Z. Gotta go A.S.A.P. You know, strictly B.Y.O.B. Bye!
Are you kidding? Do you know what this is? This, my friends, is false advertising. How dare you!
Give me some time, I'll come up with a plan.
Just go tell them the truth!
The truth, you see, is bad.
I will be branded for life.
If you could squish me, that would be great, because, uh, when they find out, I'm as good as dead.
I really do think I should be part of this meeting.
You can't go! I'm desperate!
I gotcha! I gotcha! I gotcha, I gotcha!
Somebody do something!
I'm going to snap. I'm going to snap.
Suck it in, man!
That, my friends, is the sound of applause!
We voted you our honorary den mother!
You're too kind.
Don't tell 'em I said that.
Boy, that's all I'd need, another royal blunder like that.
I know what everyone really thinks.
Thanks, you're sweet. You're wrong, but sweet.
Nobody really believes I can do this job.
I haven't been that nice to you, and I'm sorry.
Aren't you sweet?
I outrank everyone here. Remember that.
Now you're gonna cry, right?
Please, don't cry. Please.
Keep up the good work.
I mean, why take the risk?
I didn't think it was such a good idea myself. It wasn't even my idea.
They talked fancy to me. I got confused!
Why go back?
Didn't that hurt?
Any sign of those fiends?
Okay, I've told everyone you'll be stationed deep in the command bunker.
Party quiets down, I sneak you out the back way and then you're outta here forever.
He's not fully trained. I mean, house-trained.
It seems we've been booked for an extended engagement.
They're back! Get ready, everybody! Get to your posts!
Battle stations, everyone. This is not a drill. Come on, everyone, you know your jobs! LET'S GO, GO, GO, GO!
You mean, you're not warriors?
You mean to tell me that our entire defensive strategy, was concocted by clowns?!
Tell me this isn't true.
This couldn't have happened at a more inopportune time.
You lied to me! And like an idiot, I believed you.
I just wanted to make a difference.
Tough crowd.
You think this is a game?
You don't want to make him mad. Believe me! No, no, no.
You're staying with me, Your Highness.
Quick! To the clubhouse!
Have you checked over there?
I love our job.
I'm gonna be rich, rich, rich I'm gonna be rich, rich, rich
I'm rich, rich, rich That's who I am
The circus life isn't so bad.
What are you talking about? It was your idea.
I just make things worse.
I've made a living out of being a failure.
You have rekindled the long-dormant embers of purpose in our lives.
They're rounding everyone up.
I promise to start thinking about paying you
Okay, I'll pay ya! I'll pay ya!
WAIT A MINUTE!
I think I'm going to wet myself!
I guess we could use a little entertainment.
On with the show!
The circus, the circus! I love the circus
That's the signal. That's the signal!
A magician never reveals his secrets.
You've got to make it work!
Don't let it get me! Don't let it get me!
Oh, my eye! Help me!
Oh, the pain!
There goes my magic act!
WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS?!
I'm the one you want!
Where do you get the gall to do this to me?
I hate it when someone gives away the ending.
A piece of dirt! No, I'm wrong. You're lower than dirt.
Ideas are very dangerous things.
So who's the weaker species?!
It's you who need us!
We're a lot stronger than you say we are! And you know it, don't you?
Oh, this was such a bad idea!
Quick! After them!
Go that way! I've got an idea!
Come on! We've gotta hide! No matter what happens, stay down!
All your little stunt did was buy them time!
I finally get a second to relax, and I gotta get out of my chair.
I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry.
Shutting up.
What's with the rock?
Now it's getting mushy.
Finally, I'm a beautiful butterfly!
You better start flying!
I am flying! And from way up here, you all look like little ants!
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nahlakate · 2 years
Text
【a drunken song】 𝔞 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔣 chapter 4
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Minho softly smiles at the now fluffy-haired Jisung and ruffles it once more, proud of his work.
"Let's go downstairs, my friends are making breakfast for all of us," Mingo said while grabbing Jisung's arm, urging the boy to come with him.
To this, Jisung got reminded of his friends. "Wait, where are my friends?" Jisung asks the older who stopped in front of the door to face him.
"They're with my friends. We're staying together here and everyone's got a pair." Minho started, Jisung raises an eyebrow, wanting Minho to continue.
"We just placed muscly guy and freckle boy in one of the guy's room because the muscly guy wouldn't let go of freckle boy. The one owning the room crashed into someone else's room. Leader looking guy crashed in our youngest, and you with me. Y'all didn't seem like bad guys so we trust you." Minho continues and smiles at the end and did a shrug.
Trust is one big word...
Jisung shrugs as well and continues to walk outside the room. Turning the knob and revealing what kind of edgy place they have stumbled upon.
Jisung was shocked. The place wasn't edgy at all, it was quite beautiful and neat.
What greets them is a glass railing that looks over to the first floor which had a living room and the kitchen on the left, a big chandelier adorning the center of the ceiling.
Jisung looks side to side and sees rooms, probably where the other guys are staying.
"What the hell, you're loaded!" Jisung exclaimed at looked at the older with sparkling eyes.
"Gotta live your best life." He replies while shrugging and continues to walk towards the staircase which was quite grand might I add.
Jisung continues to admire the house and both of them get greeted with a smell...
A burning smell...
Minho's expression slowly goes dark. Whoever was stupid enough to go through Minho's kitchen was for sure in a ride.
Heavy stomps were heard by the pair in the kitchen.
Hiding flinched at Minho's sudden outrage and quickly follows him to the kitchen. There he saw a very handsome boy and a puppy looking but who was also quite handsome.
"Shit, Hyunjin. You're dead." The puppy boy said to 'Hyunjin', the latter chuckled nervously when they identified the owner of the monstrous stomps.
"Yah, Seungmin-ah. Help. Help!" Hyunjin was now covering his face, cowering in fear from Minho.
Minho stops in Hyunjin, heaves a deep sigh, and slaps his butt. This was very surprising for Jisung.
"Aigoo, look at what you did." Minho sighs while looking at the disaster of an egg. "How can someone burn an egg this black? Are you some kind of magician or something?" Minho says, his voice filled with sarcasm.
"I'm sorry..." Hyunjin lifts his hands in defeat and backs out of the kitchen and into the safety of the couch where Seungmin had evacuated to.
Jisung just stood there as the whole scene unfolded, when someone stands beside him. A cute-looking boy with very distinguishable eyes stood there. "That's what I deal with every day." The boy sighs and eats a chip from the bag he was holding.
He turns to Jisung with a smile.
"Hi! I'm Yang Jeongin, 20 years old." He greets himself and extends a hand to shake Jisung's.
"You can call me Jeongin or Innie. Don't be so formal too. Chan-Hyung said you were older than me so you don't have to be formal." Jeongin also continues, not giving Jisung a chance to introduce himself.
"H-Hello. I'm Han Jisung. Indeed I am older than you by one year. And how are you so cute?" Jisung also introduced himself to the new fine specimen he saw today. Honestly, how are people here so attractive? Damn.
Jeongin giggles and smiles, going to Minho and helping him restore his kitchen.
Jisung may or may not have melted.
He follows Jeongin's steps and also goes to Minho who he was most comfortable with at the moment.
"Oh, Jisung-ah. Can you pass me the eggs?" Minho casually says making Jisung quite surprised but obliged anyway.
"Thank you. You can go get yourself something to eat or something to make you entertained." Minho said while pointing to the fridge and the shelves above the counters.
Jisung simply nodded and headed over to the fridge hoping for some kind of drink.
He opens the door of the heavens and saw a variety of food, his eyes twinkled while looking at the various things he could eat.
While scanning, a hand slung over him and also scanned the fridge.
Confused, he looked to his right and saw Hyunjin biting a box while drinking something from the box. Yogurt.
Hyunjin also looked at him and moved his eyebrows up and down.
"Hi." He smiles toothily and grabs, what seemed to be, a skincare product.
Hyunjin stands straight and sprays the said product on his face. He pats the products lightly into his face and finishes.
He washes his hands and fries them in his pants before facing Jisung.
"Hi. My name's Hwang Hyunjin. '00." He smiles and extends a hand to which Jisung shook.
"Han Jisung, also '00." He smiles at his new friend who was now looking at the fridge and grabbed Banana Milk. He handed it to Jisung saying it was good and he recommends it, to which Jisung says thank you and accepted it.
The two now walks to the couch where Seungmin resided and they both introduced themselves and talk, slowly becoming more acquainted.
After a short while, Jisung's other friends finally arrived and waved their hands at the boys very casually when they got down making Jisung quite confused.
"Hey, Sungs," Chan said while ruffling the younger's hair before going to Minho to help him make pancakes.
"Do y'all know each other or something? Am I missing something?" Jisung asks them.
"Oh, you missed a lot dear. We all played while you were sleeping. Except for Minho-hyung who was taking care of you. And we just became friends yesterday." Hyunjin said, who was now laying down on Seungmin's lap while playing on his phone.
Jisung could only nod his head and continued to sip on his Banana Milk.
"Well, now that everyone's acquainted, let's all eat breakfast shall we?" Chan announced, gathering everyone and waking up Felix who was sleeping on the couch.
"Okay, Innie first," Chan says while handing out the first plate. Jeongin smiles at Chan and muttered a "Thank you." before reaching for the syrup which Changbin gave.
And soon all plates were served and everyone was eating happily, telling jokes and stories about yesterday. And also laughing about Jisung's mishaps that have embarrassed him thoroughly. 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛
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raz-b-rose · 4 years
Text
The Secrets we Share
Part one
This is the second and (for now) final part to this AU. 
11527 words. Enjoy
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737908/chapters/56487616#workskin
___________________________________________________________
Marinette pulls back from the kiss first, gazing lovingly at Damian. “I love you, sorry again for overreacting” 
“We both have weaknesses, but we have all the time to help each other” Damian kisses her forehead, taking her bag to her room. Marinette only hums in response. 
Marinette couldn't believe the changes in her life in just one week. Master Fu had passed, she was the new supreme Guardian; her parents were proud of her, and she hoped her mother understood when she told them about the wedding. She was raised within the temple's traditions after all, but she had also raised her to carve her own path despite Fu’s desire to raise her as the next supreme. 
Marinette froze for a moment, watching Damian move around her apartment with ease, grinning wildly at the thought of this becoming her everyday life. Her and Damian together, best friends and partners. Partners. Marinette focusses on that word. She thinks about her days as a vigilante. It had been two years since she had last transformed with Tiki, since she had last doned the monacer of Ladybug and assisted others. She feels something bubble up in her chest that almost matches the excitement of her future with Damian. She could become ladybug once again. 
Damina glances behind him to Marinette relaxing to the sight of her smile. She was his retreat from everything crazy and stressful in his life. No matter what happens in the field or on missions, he would always have her to return to. Her smile, her joy, and her kindness will always be there for him. 
“Hey Chéri, I should let you know that we have just one more thing in common” Marinette is still grinning wildly, coming forward to join their hand together. 
“What is that Habibti?” Damian finds himself caught up in her excitement. 
“I used to be a vigilante as well, and I had to quit when I moved here for school, didn’t want to step on any toes, but now I can help again, this is wonderful” 
Damian stiffins, varying images of all the terrible things that could happen to Marinette flying though his mind before settling on Barbra in a wheelchair. His grip tightens his breathing labored. 
“Marinette I-” She simply cups his face, eyes shining in understanding. 
“Because Tikki is effectively immortal, that trait is shared with me when I am transformed with her. There is nothing to worry about.”
“Tikki?” As if responding to the name, the same small red fairy-like creature flies up to his face, almost causing him to go cross eyed. 
“There is nothing to worry about Damian. If anything, Marinette would be better protected than you.”
“How does that work?” Marinette had moved them back to the couch, continuing to smile as though Damian was not in the middle of a panic attack thinking about how she could die horribly. He would love to have her beside him at all times, but maybe not all the time. 
Tikki only grins at him. Damian looks to Marinette to see the grin reflected on her face. They did not see the issue here. Marinette could not be in the field. She must have done community service or something. There is no way his Habibti fought crime as a teenager, right? 
“Because I am immortal, unless something were to happen to my earrings, which would be very challenging to manage mind you, when I share my powers with another that trait is shared with them as well.” 
Damian is still struggling to grasp the calming logic of her statements. “Even if she can’t die she could still be seriously hurt '' Damian doesn't want to be overprotective, but he's going to be overprotective. 
Tikki only shakes her head, the movement soft. “I absorb any damage she takes, for life threatening injuries however, i can only absorb so much,” Damian stops breathing all together, “so she would be left with anything from a bruise to a laceration.”
“Nothing a first aid kit can’t handle.” Marinette appears at his side, handing him a mug of tea. When had she moved and made tea?
“But you could still be-” He starts to argue, but Marinette's change in tone causes him pause to hear her out. 
“Damian, I have been shot on three different occasions, here, here, and here.” She points to her hip, head and finally her heart. Damian followed each movement of her finger with fascinated horror. “I was only left with a bruise for each of them, I will be ok.”
They have a stare off for what feels like hours, Damian can see another creature join the huddle on the couch, but keeps his focus on Marinette. Her eyes aren’t hard, instead they are understanding but she won't back down from this. “I also have healing magic, for the next time you get hurt”
“I don’t get hurt” Damian tries to say with an air of pride, but even to his ears he can hear the weakness of the lie. 
“Yes you do, mister I got shot and didn’t say anything” Marinette gives him a pointed look, before giggling at Damian's crestfallen face. 
“How did you know?”
“Oh please, I have been training with magic since I could walk, specifically that healing magic” She says with a wave of her hand. He closes his eyes, taking multiple deep breaths. 
What are the facts of the situation he has control over? Marinette knows magic. Marinette can bond with an immortal being effectively making her immortal while bonded. Marinette has been shot before. Marinette is here. Marinette had been a vigilante. Marinette had been a good vigilante. Nobody as far as he knew had heard of any such thing from Paris. Marinette is going to be his partner in everything. Everything. Damian opens his eyes to her sky blue ones, relaxing once again into their depths. 
“Ok, but we start slow, I need time to adjust.” She just smiles softly at him, rubbing her hand along his shoulder. 
“Of course Chéri, it's only fair,” Damian relaxes some more, thankful at her cooperation. “You don't know how amazing I am as a vigilante yet” Damian scowls at her, eyes darkening in that competitive way they always do when Marinette goads him on. 
“Is that so” He grins wickedly, carefully placing both of their cups on the coffee table. She eyes him with excited trepidation, waiting for Damian to strike. He glances behind her, tilting his head in confusion, and strikes when she also starts to turn back. 
“Are you as good as you say if you fall for such an easy trick?” He teases while he tickles her, proud at the belly laughs he is eliciting from her. 
“Stop Dami, stop” She squeals, trying desperately to put distance between them, her breaths short and joy filled. 
“I dont think I’m ready to” 
“Dami!” She laughs out, soft pawing at his face, tears of joy mixing with the tear tracks from earlier. With that Final plea, he stops kissing her quickly and gently. He doesn’t need her passing out from lack of oxygen after all. She simply pulls him down into a cuddle, humming contently. Pulling each other close, their warmth mixes together, making for a comfortable nap inducing environment, but both know they can’t take a nap, not yet after all. 
Damian glances over to see Tikki and the other one, sitting cheerfully on the window sill, observing the city streets below. 
“What,” Damian starts to ask Marinette then thinks better of it, after all they were clearly sentient beings capable of holding a conversation. 
“What exactly are you?” He sits up, facing each of the small beings. They glance between each other before coming over to sit on the coffee table. 
“We are called kwami, but to be exact we are the personification of certain ideals or desires.” The small horse looking one answers, licking away at a sugar cube. 
Damian glances to Marinette for clarification. They did answer his question but it left him blind to certain details that Marinette is sure to have. However Tikki is the one to answer his unasked inquiry. 
“We should start at the beginning, as we do with all newcomers to the Order,” Tikki sends a pointed look to Kaalki, who just rolls her eyes before focusing on her meal. 
“There was a woman named Tikki who lived in China during the Xia dynasty. She learned of magic through travelers and taught herself the most powerful form of magic at the time, creation magic. She loved to create new things, especially things to help others.”
“While she was traveling her older sister fell ill to what was an incurable disease at the time.” Marinette laughs softly into her hand as Damian leans forward, grasping his hands in front of his face in total concentration on Tikki’s history lesson. 
“She quickly switched her focus to healing magic, desperate to save her sister's life. During her quest she experimented with imbedding jewelry with healing effects to stop or even just slow the effects of the sickness.”
Tikki leaves the coffee table to continue her story next to Marinette's earrings, touching them softly. “Because of her love to create, her love for her sister, and her desire to heal I was brought into consciousness, a part of her soul, so to speak, being imbedded into the earrings.” 
“I became everything she desired and held dear. I can create as well as heal and was the first miraculous created.” 
“Do you share her memories?” 
“No, I am simply a personification of her will.”
“Is that why you are immortal, you are neither alive or dead?” Marinette is impressed that Damian was able to grasp that truth so quickly. 
“Exactly.” 
“What happened after?” He is not so much as eager to learn what happened, but rather gain the knowledge necessary to join this world of Marinettes. 
“She returned home just as the sickness was taking its final hold, we worked together to heal her, becoming Hóng fūrén.”
“Did she create the rest of the miraculous?”
“No,” Kaalki answers him this time, having finished her sugar cube she settles in on Marinette's other shoulder. “When other magicians learned of what she created, they traveled to her, eager to learn her secrets.”
“The first was a man by the name of Plagg, who had lost a loved one to the same sickness that almost took Tikki’s sister. He had heard of her miracle and hoped that she could return his loved one to him.”
“I hear a but in there,”
“Bringing people back from the dead will always have consequences, as you know” Tikki says gravely, her stare is filled both with pity and resentment. He doesn’t think that the last one is aimed at him however. Marinette stiffins. 
“Damian-”
“We can talk about that later,” She doesn’t look reassured, but nods in acceptance, “Thank you, please continue” Damian reaches up to rub his chest where the sword pierced. There was no scar, but the memory of the pain was enough for Damian.
“Even though they could not help him in his original request, he still desired to learn her new way of magic as well. He then created the ring of destruction, his desire to rid the world of the illness being his main driving force.”
“Each of the Miraculous were created by different magicians and added to the collection. Tikki and Plagg went on to be the founders of the order, seeking to use their magic to help everyone around them.”
“What caused them to hide from the world?”
“A traitor by the name of Jin Yong. He had been unsuccessful in creating anything, much less a Miraculous. He attempted to steal all of them for himself, and killed Plagg in the process.” Marinette always hated this part of the story. 
“By this time Tikki and Plagg had married, and started a family. In her rage, she wielded both the creation and destruction Miraculous. Jin yong was quickly dealt with but her rage still needed an outlet.”
“She unleashed such raw magical power, that she carved up the nearby mountain range. The other magicians feared her, quick to submit themselves to her, and follow any order she had to give. She then declared that from thereforth, all Miraculous would be kept in a box, and named herself as Supreme Guardian, who is the only person capable of opening the box.”
"She then traveled as far west as she could before stopping in what is now Tibet. There she built the temple and erased all traces of the miraculous from the world.”
Marinette plays with her fingers, small tears gathering. Damian rubs small circles in her back, quietly processing what he just heard. That much raw power in the wrong hands could be disastrous. 
“Marinette, is announcing the Order to the world the wisest idea?” He was trying to be gentle, but the idea of being incapable of fighting against such a threat scared him. 
“Yes, Supreme Guardian Tikki also placed a spell over all the miraculous. As long as I know who holds the Miraculous I can order it back to the box. Stealing one is difficult but not impossible. It has happened before.” 
“Damian,” Kaalki draws his attention away, “ Not every Miraculous can manage that kind of power. Not every person can handle that kind of power. Tikki only could because she had created the Miraculous, her bonding with it being much more intimate than can be managed today.” 
Damian frowns in confusion, “So how does this whole bonding thing work anyway?” 
Marinette seems to brighten a little, quick to answer him, “The longer you wear a miraculous the stronger the shared magic between Kwami and human become. You also have to physically fit, spiritually sound and mentally strong to even transform with a Kwami. Anyone can wear a miraculous, but not everyone can wield one.” 
“That makes me feel a little better.”
She giggles softly, sipping her tea softly. Tikki and Kaalki had moved from her shoulders now sitting softly in her lap. Marinette seems to be working herself up to say something, so he waits patiently for her to collect herself. 
“We have had this power that could be shared with the world for centuries, just sitting there in cowardice for what may or may not happen. When Plagg first convinced me to transform with him and take a run on the roof tops, and I stopped a mugging, I knew what I would do with the Order should I end up leading it. I would build a team to help the world.” 
She gives Damian a hard stare, “I will help those who need it.” He can’t help but smile at her and berate himself even further. Her heart is too good, kind, and compassionate. 
“You will accomplish all those things Marinette. I will help you any way I can.” 
“I know. Thank you Damian” Marinette feels a peace within her soul. The Order could look down on a Supreme being in a relationship all they want. She would not be as strong without Damian at her side. 
“So why have I never heard of vigilantes in Paris?” Marinette at least has the gall to look embarrassed. 
“As a part of my training, I would bond with a different miraculous every two weeks. When Plagg talked me into transforming and testing my powers in Paris, instead of at the temple, I loved the rush from pouncing on people and surprising them. Because I had a new look every few weeks, no one ever made the connection.”
“And then she had to start getting her friends in on it too,” Tikki chimes in in exasperation. “It was hard enough keeping her nightly adventures a secret, but adding more people to the mix every few months was getting challenging.” 
“And yet I built myself a good team” Marinette huffs. They went on to bicker about Marinette's youth. Damian can’t help but dread that this would also now be a part of his new life. Kwami everywhere all the time. It would definitely take some adjusting. Damian frowns at his now vibrating phone, the caller ID confusing him even more. Standing he distances himself from the others, not wanting to disturb them with his call. 
“What is it Brown?” She only ever called him when there was a daytime emergency. 
“Damian you need to talk to Tim, this isn't ok.” 
“I don't need to do anything you say” Damian feels his good mood souring quickly. 
“No, Tim is a wreck. You haven't talked to anyone for days.”
“Who I choose to speak to is none of your concern.” Stephanie tries to interrupt him but Damian speaks over her, “I am not responsible for how Drake is feeling”
“You men and hating to talk things out” She snaps, Damian only rolls his eyes, after all just what had he and Marinette been doing for the last hour? 
“There is nothing for us to talk about. He has apologized but the fact of the matter is he doesn't trust me, therefore there is no reason to speak until that is repaired first” Damian clenches his fist at admitting such a thing to Stephanie of all people. 
“Of course he trusts you Damian,” 
“If he truly trusted me, then this would not have happened” The silence on the other end is unsettling, Damian can only stand there, waiting for her to say something, but he knows she can’t find a way to refute his claim. “I believe you have no right to speak to me about such matters as well Brown, last I heard you weren’t even on speaking terms with Drake yourself”
“That was a low blow Damian” She growls out before cursing him out and hanging up. Damian trembles, Stephanie reigniting his original anger from the last week. He jumps a little, meeting Marinette's worried gaze. 
“Damian?” 
“It’s nothing, just Drakes, whatever she is right now, meddling with something she has no right to.” Marinette retakes her seat on the couch. They had talked about themselves, but not how he felt with his family. Clearly it was still unresolved and had led to a lot of stress for all parties. 
“Does Tim do things like this often?” She asks so quietly, that Damian almost missed her question, the roaring in his ears grew louder. 
“Do what?”
“Investigate people?”
“It is his prefered job. He investigates to find all the information so that we don’t have any blank spots.” 
“Then why was his investigation of me bothering you so much? He does it to other people so why can’t he do it to me?” He can tell she is playing devil's advocate, but the question still bothers him. He can feel his anger growing stronger.
“I asked him, and Todd, not to. To meet you like normal people.” She hums, nodding her head slightly in agreement. 
“That request does change everything. And why does that feel like a breach of trust to you?” Damian tightens his fists, a headache coming on from his tightened jaw. Marinette runs her thumb over the back of his hand, that's when he notices her breathing steadily. In, out. In, out. Damian starts to match her pace, his body loosening with each exhale.
“They question every choice I make. Always acting like I’m in danger. However only when I make ‘life changing decisions’” Damian states dryly, “any other time they behave as though they do not care for me.” Marinette only nods, he can tell by the look in her eye that she is processing the information, tucking it away. 
“I know I can be uncommunicative and impersonal at times,” Marinette offers a small smile, “but I thought that I had made headway in building better relationships with my brothers. Don’t tell them this but I do care for them and have come to enjoy their company” 
“This sounds like normal sibling drama then.” Marinette smiles, “No need to be angry. Tim and Jason care too, in their own way. They need to find a different way to show it though, you too mister” She runs her finger down his nose before pecking it quickly.
“I don’t know how to approach them at the moment, but I don’t want to lose them either” Damian confides in her, knowing his vulnerability is safe with her. 
“It doesn’t need to be today Damian, a lot has happened already.” She stands pulling him with her. “But it needs to be soon. It becomes harder the longer you wait.”
“I will Habibti, don’t worry. Thank you.”
“You can talk about anything at any time Damian.” She smiles softly one last time before leading them towards the door. “I am hungry, and i think food would help both of us right now” 
They enjoyed a peaceful meal, phones set on silent, just the two of them ignoring the outside world of responsibilities until a later time. Damian asked more questions, Marinette asked her own in return. The couple shared everything they hadn't before, finding solace in the fact that they truly understood the others' struggles like no one else could. 
The late afternoon sun offered a cozy setting as they returned to Marinette's place, the Kwami glad to be home for free reign once again. And the two of them did what they did best. Separate activities in the same room. 
Marinette returned to her dress, as it was still due for completion that week. Family emergency or not, fashion projects are to be completed. Damian returned to his book, quickly reimmersed in it, but even that couldn't hold off the exhaustion that builds when emotional stress is in play. Damian is stirred from sleep, Marinette giggling at him.
“Hey sleepy head, I think you need to go home to get some proper rest” She places a marker in his book, before walking away. Damian lays there for a few moments adjusting to consciousness. He sits up a little too quickly when he notices the time. He is late for patrol. 
He jumped off the couch, pulling his jacket on in a panic, cursing softly as he gathered the rest of his things. Maeinette wonders over, concerned. 
“Is everything ok? Did something happen?”
“No, nothing like that. I am just late for patrol” Damian pecks her cheek but the touch of her hand stops him at the door. 
“Is that a good idea? You seem really tired.” He kisses her once more, less rushed this time.
“I will be ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, promise” Marinette hugs him tightly before finally letting him leave. She stands at the door for a moment, before turning back to her dress. Damian would be ok, she could feel it. Her gut was almost never wrong anymore, Marinette frowns at her embroidery, almost. 
Tonight was not a good night. Damian scowls into the streets below. The coms were unusually silent. When he had signed onto the comms everyone gave him short crisp answers. His father, he could understand, but Todd and Drake refused to talk to him, and after the fuss Stephanie made, he expected Drake to be grovelling once again. 
“Boys, we got trouble down by the docks, looks like Penguin is making a move.” Oracle informs. Each gave a confirmation before launching to the docks. Damian moved quickly, the thought of Marinette waiting for him at the forefront of his mind more than ever. 
“Robin and Red Hood, come in from the north. Red Robin and I will come in from the west.” Batman orders before going silent once again. Damian is almost to the docks when Red Hood comes up on his right, their paths converging into one. 
“Robin, she got back today right? Did everything go alright?” Damian is caught off guard by his question and almost missteps off the roof. He opens his mouth to respond like he always had when they try to pry, but Marinette's words from that afternoon cause him pause. He needs to find a different way to show that he does care for his brothers. What better way to start then being more open about his life. 
“It went well.” 
Now it was Jason's turn to be surprised. Damian was not one to willingly give information on his personal life. It took poking and prodding with the figurative crowbar to even get him to open his mouth, and even that didn’t always guarantee you'll get what you wanted out of him. 
“That's good to hear.” He could practically feel the tension drain from the coms, Babs mutters a small praise and he winces. He knew they could feel the tension, he felt bad that Babs could as well. “Sorry Oracle”
“Refocus, now that that is out of the way, and then you can talk more.” 
“Yes Ma’am” 
Damian scowls as the distant sound of sirens grows louder. Just what they didn’t need. “Red Robin and I have converged on the smugglers. Some are trying to escape your way, be ready.” 
The boys move faster to intercept before the police arrive. Damian swings down, landing harder than intended on the pavement, bringing five men to an abrupt stop. They are all dressed in beanies and black clothes. A few have traditional guns while the others have spearguns guns.
“Evening boys, would you mind dropping the weapons and surrendering peacefully?” Red Hood saunters in from the rear, catching all the cornered men off guard. With a grunt, they all start to pull their guns. 
Without further words, the boys attack first, subduing the ones with the spearguns first, fearing the nasty wound that could leave more than that of a regular gun. After all, they have dealt with those before. One of the men, after losing his gun, tried to fare in hand to hand combat, Damian simply tripped him, knocking him out cold with an elbow to the throat. Damian turns around to find himself at the end of a gun, and no time to move. 
Red Hood bashes the man in the back of the head with his gun, simply nodding at Damian, who could only sigh in relief. It wasn’t the first time he had been in that sort of situation since meeting Marinette, where all he could think about was how upset and angry she would be to learn how he died. Now that she knew, he wondered if she would be angrier or just heartbroken. 
Red Hood walks over, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. “Not yet Robin, you have plenty of time ahead of you.” Damian glances at him with narrowed eyes, he can feel his mask constrict with the movement. How had he managed to glare 24/7 when he was younger? 
They boys turn at the sound of their family landing behind them. Red Robin fidgets next to the bat, their difference in height would have made it comical if not for the seriousness of the situation. Damian simply nods to him, sending a small smile his way. That was more than enough to show the young man that the blood between them had been cleared. He relaxed immediately, offering his own smirk in return. 
Bruce watched the interaction, glad that the boys had made up in their own way, but couldn’t help the roll of his eyes at the dramatics of it all. But it's your fault that they are terrible at these things his subconscious whispers to him. Bruce scowled at the intrusive thought, his pride making it difficult to admit fault. 
“The police have already started inventory on the unit of drugs they were trying to move into the city. Pick up will be here shortly, Robin come with me to oversee processing of evidence.” Both men set off, Father and Son into the night. 
Batman turns off his comm unit, motioning for Robin to do the same. While Damian’s relationship with Bruce hasn't always been the smoothest, they have both tried. Damian tried to be everything he valued in his Father, and Bruce tried to emulate the things Damian thought of as important. Unfortunately for both of them, that did not include expressing emotions or confrontation into personal issues as priority. 
“I look forward to meeting her.” Damian rolls his eyes at the attempt for normal father son bonding conversations. They had never been Bruce's forte, but he refused to cease the attempts. “She must be a wonderful woman.”
“Wonderful because she caught my attention?” 
“Wonderful because she brings out the best in you.” Bruce smiles, knowing Damian was testing his responses. He may not be the best at conventional relationships, but he picked up a thing or two from Alfred over the years. 
Damian is caught off guard at the response. “The best in me?”
“She must have said something today or performed an action in the past to influence your earlier behavior with your brothers” Damian thinks over his words, realizing the truth within the statement. He grins before voicing his next thought. 
“If she has held such an influence over me for so long, you must be slacking in your abilities, old man” Bruce simply raises his brow, a trade mark look if anyone who knows Batman were to give him one. 
“Maybe” And with that the conversation comes to an end for now, as he turns the comms back on, meeting the commissioner behind the taped off scene. Robin shadows Batman, a working system for the last few years now. Damian however is processing the day while observing the hustle and bustle of the crime scene. Once everything is settled and they are retiring for the night at the cave, suits locked up and equipment put away, Damian sends a small wave to his family before heading back to the city. 
His brain battles with itself before he finally crashes onto his bed, sleep over taking him. The night was a normal one, with the regular adrenaline. No matter how hard he tried to rethink about his afternoon, his body needed to rejuvenate itself. Thinking could wait, recharge could not. 
It is well past twelve when he finally awakens, a small headache at the front of his head. He checks his phone to find a text from Bruce, asking if they would be coming to dinner at the Manor. It was Dicks last night in town before returning to Jump City. 
Damian ended up staring at his phone for over five minutes. Finally he placed a call, hoping she was available. He chuckles as she picks up the phone, her frantic yelps coming over the line.
“Damian finally! Are you ok?”
“Yes Marinette, I am fine.” He laughs.
“Thank goodness, what's up?”
“Would you be available for dinner at the manor tonight?”
“Of course! What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at three-thirty. We usually eat around four.”
“Perfect, I’ll see you soon! Love you!” Before she hangs up he hears her call for Tikki, claiming a need for her opinion on outfits. Laughing one last time, he responds to his father's text before rising to get ready. 
Now that things were mostly patched with Tim and Jason, dinner wasn’t looking to be an uncomfortable affair. He was however still apprehensive to introduce her to his family. But, if she could handle his past confessions, then she could probably handle his family just fine. If she could handle leading a whole organization at twenty-two, she could handle his family. 
After a quick walk for Titus, and running a quick errand, it was finally time to pick up Marinette. As he approaches her building once more, she waits on the sidewalk, eyes peeled for his car. Her face lights up as she spots him, her hair cascading gently around her face, framing her freckles and eyes perfectly. 
“Hey there handsome, did you have a good night?” With the click of her seat belt, Damian returns to the line of cars eager to leave the city.  
“We managed to intercept a shipment of new drugs Penguin was trying to introduce to the city. Not a standard night but not a new scenario” Damian shrugs, not finding it as weird to talk casually about his nightly activities as he thought it would be.
Marinette nods, giving him a weak smile, “That is relieving to hear, I was worried for you”
“I assume that is going to be a standard for us now” Damian scowls, thinking once again about all the horrible what-ifs and undesirable futures. 
“Yes but i feel like it's not that different from other couples” Marinette reaches over to take his hand, Damian notices she's trembling slightly, but decides not to bring attention to it. 
“What do you mean? I believe we are in a unique situation.”
“ Well what about Military, Officers, or any other profession that has a life threatening aspect to it? Any couple apart of those lives worry for safety and health just as much as we are now”
“That is a very true point, however I maintain our uniqueness with that not every couple fights crime as vigilantes together” Damain gives her a quick pointed look before returning his focus to the road. 
“And the average couple can be affected by unexpected injuries or death as well,” Marinette continues as though Damian hadn’t spoken, staring out the window as the grey and muted red buildings turn to a forest of green with the ocean peaking through, “No we are not the different after all” 
Damian doesn't respond for a moment, his mind focussing between her trembling hand, to her hyperfocus on safety and wellbeing standards in other couples, and finally on the scrunching of her face as though she is trying not to cry. 
“Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” His tone was gentle, and quiet; his brothers would never believe it. Damian no longer had any qualms about having Marinette by his side no matter what. He needed her, just a week of thinking he had lost her, had him in a wreck,. He doesn't know what would happen if he were to actually lose her. 
“Myself,” She continues to stare out the window, but she seemed almost calmer now, “The vigilantism aside, we would have a decreased risk of losing each other, but not a nonexistent risk.” 
Damian knows that she is processing her thoughts, and smiles to himself, waiting patiently. “I love you Damian, it's painful to think about life without you,”
“Then don’t, don’t focus on the what-ifs, the negative possibilities, or the inevitable future.” Marinette finally looks at him then, eyes narrowed but a smile beginning to form, “Focus on today, that we are together”
“Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” She parrots, giggling at his unimpressed look. “Empathy is so very interesting, we can so clearly see how to reassure someone else of our own fear but struggle with our own advice” 
“Never have more true words been spoken” Damian chuckles, taking her hand in his own, the car settling into silence once more. The calm atmosphere is cracked when Marinette's hands begin to tremble once again.
“Relax, Mari. They will love you”
“Yes but there has been so much drama surrounding myself that I can’t help but be a little more than nervous.” She thinks back to the phone call Damian received yesterday, unsure of how this ‘Brown’ person would receive her. 
“No reason to be unless you are truly uncomfortable with everything that happened? You never did tell me how you felt about all that?”
“Oh yea,” Damian scowls. Of course she forgot this had affected her too. Her own privacy to be exact. “Well is everything cleared up between you guys?”
Now it was Damians turn to be uncomfortable. “We haven't talked, but I let them know I was no longer upset.” Damian mumbles, thankful that he is driving so he had a reason not to meet Marinette's eyes. 
“Hmm, perhaps I should talk to the boys,”
“Why?”
“Well they did listen to my phone call, that is definitely something we need to discuss” Her tone was off. It was like she was trying to sound serious but sarcasm laced ever syllable as well. If he hadn’t glanced at her just then, he would have missed the smirk, now leaving her lips as she tried to school her expression. 
“What are you up too?” 
“I am up to nothing Damian. This is a serious conversation.” Yea no, not even Dick would fall for that. 
“I trust you will tell me what you really want to talk about with them later.” He wouldn’t pry anymore, but he wasn’t going to drop it either. Marinette only smiles softly at him, reaching her hand to trace his jaw line. The action leaving him distracted and hyper aware at the same time. 
“All in good time Love, just trust me on this one.” 
“You play dirty” He growls out, grip tightening around the wheel. Again she laughs, repeating her earlier action. 
“I know you love me” She teases cheekily, before bringing their conversation away from the topic of family and onto miscellaneous, trivial ones. Damian responds idly, enjoying having her back in his presence. Soon they reach the broad gates of Wayne manor, hidden behind the thick foliage making Marinette feel even more like an outsider. 
Damian climbs out of the car, waiting for Marinette to join him at his side. He glances behind him confused when she does not appear. A quick glance shows that she is still in the car, fists clenched as she takes a few deep breaths. Damian waits patiently for her to finish. 
When she finally climbs out of the car, her face shows confidence, while the trembling of her hands betray her nerves. Damian’s larger hand swallows her, Damian likes to think he is absorbing her nerves, and the smile she sends his way almost makes him believe that. 
“Oh I almost forgot” Damian reaches into his pocket, pulling a small box out. Marinette smiles softly at him before giving her hand to him to accept the ring. It is a simple silver band with one small pink stone embedded in the ring. It was perfect for the seamstress, nothing to snag on the fabric. 
“You didn't have to do that Damian”
“You are my fiance and tradition dictates I present you with a ring as a symbol of our status” Marinatte tries not to laugh but fails, breaking down into small giggles. 
“Also,” Damian leads her towards the ‘house’ once more, “I want to see how perceptive my family truly is” 
They walked inside, the liveliness of the manor there, but muted to the back of the house. The couple start to move to the back only to be halted when Damian is tackled to the ground. Marinette can’t help but gasp as he slides back to the front door.
“Uncle Dami! 
Damian carefully sits up, hugging the small girl to his chest. She may only be nine now, but she grew into her tamaranian strength everyday. “Hey there power-pop, stronger than the last time I see.”
The girl giggles, she lifts Damian off the ground, hugging him tightly. “Mom has been training me everyday. I can lift a small car now!” Her eyes are a bright green, alight with an energy that only a child knows. 
“Can you now power-pop? Do you mind putting me down, I would like to introduce you to someone.” Damian gasps for breath, rubbing his side. He was bound to have a few bruises by tonight, as he always did after seeing Mar’i. “This is Marinette.”
Marinette watches in temptation as the girl turns her attention to her. Her posture is relaxed, open and friendly. She was well muscled for her age, and probably the tallest as well, standing close to Marinette's shoulders, who was only 5’3’’. Marinette couldn’t help but love the contrast of her vivid green eyes to her midnight hair and sunset skin tone. She would grow to be a beautiful woman. 
“Hi I’m Mar’i.” She chirps, bouncing a little as she approaches Marinette for a hug. 
“Be gently power-pop, she's not used to your strength.” 
“Ok Uncle Dami.” Marinette gasps a little, if this was gentle, she felt bad for whatever kind of hug Damian received. 
“It’s nice to meet you too Mar’i you want to hear a secret.” The girl's eyes light up at the question. She nods eagerly, leaning in close.
“My friends call me Mari, just like your name.” Marinette whispers, side eyeing Damian with a smirk. He frowns at her, clearly put off by being out of the loop. 
“Really!?”
“Yup, do you think you could help think of another nickname for me?” Marinette continues to whisper. 
“I will think really hard! Do you have any superpowers or are you super cool like my dad?” Before Marinette can answer, a man enters behind her standing behind Mar’i with his hands on her shoulders. 
“Mar’i what have we said about asking those kinds of questions. Not everyone is Meta or comfortable admitting they are Meta. You are free to talk about yourself, but don’t ask those questions.” 
“Sorry Dad, sorry Marinette.” 
“To answer your question Mar’i, no I don't have superpowers, but I can perform magic and have magic friends. Would you like to meet them?” Marinette smiles at the girl, relaxing when the excitement returns to her eyes. 
“Can I? Where are they?” 
Tikki and Kaalki fly out of their hiding places, smiling at the girl as well. She giggles when Mar’i only grows more excited, firing off questions a mile a minute. With a defeated shake of his head, the man holds out his hand to Marinette. 
“Dick Grayson, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.” He moves them off to a sitting area beside the entryway. 
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, likewise. Your daughter is precious, I can’t imagine how much of a handful she must be though.” 
“You have no idea,” he chuckles with a glance back at his daughter, “Mar’i Grayson if you want to fly, go outside.” 
“Com’on Tikki and Kaalki I want to see how high you can fly!” The adults all show variations of amusement and exasperation at Mar’i’s excitement as she darts out the front door, the kwami close behind. 
The adults left in the room jump, the sound of breaking glass and swearing echoing from down the hall. Dick only pinches the bridge of his nose muttering to himself. “I am so thankful I don’t live here anymore”
Damian only shares a look with Marinette, who is already moving down the hall to investigate. He watches as she takes quick glances at the pictures lining the walls, Alfred putting careful attention into each and everyone. Damian wasn’t fond of pictures, but had realized at a young age that they helped recreate the good memories. 
The sounds of an argument grow as they come closer to the kitchen. Damian knew what kind of scene awaited him behind the swinging door, Marinette however would be horrified. She was as meticulous in the kitchen as she was with her sewing. She cleaned as she went, and put everything away after it was used. Her kitchen was never left with a blemish, and she almost took his head off the first time he tried to help her cook dinner. 
He watched as she pushed open the door, taking in the scene in front of her. Tim stood with his back to her, a handheld broom clenched in his fist as he waved it around to emphasize his words. 
Jason stood glaring on the other side of the kitchen island yelling back. Alfred stood off to the side, exasperated at their antics, choosing to continue cooking, leaving the young men to their own devices. 
“What has Alfred been teaching you?” Jason shouts, gesturing wildly at the broken glass and pasta sauce splatter from floor to counter to ceiling.
“To cook unlike you, at least I can be in the kitchen by myself without it bursting into flames.”
“Yeah because all you know is how to use the microwave.”
“Says the king of microwavable dinners for one”
“Why you-” Jason stops from leaping over the counter at Tim, his eyes widening at the sight of Marinette standing in the doorway. Tim turns in confusion before also freezing in what could be fear or shock, Damian couldn’t tell. 
“Hello Miss Marinette, it is wonderful to meet you after all this time.” Alfred comes over, taking her hand in his own. Marinette smiles at him, his hands are soft, but not as soft as his eyes. If this man was a part of Damian’s family, then she truly had nothing to worry about. 
“I feel the same,” Marinette can feel the love he has for his family. Though he continues to age more each year, he continues to serve them with all the care he can give. “I look forward to getting to know you.” Alfread plays with Marinette’s ring, giving her a mischievous smile before turning back to the stove. 
The boys still hadn’t moved, they stood defensively, waiting for Marinette to strike. From their viewpoint they feel like cornered prey, Marinellte the Lioness, waiting for the proper moment to strike. Both men begin to sweat, the mess quickly forgotten. She gently takes the broom and dustpan from Tim, leaning down to sweep up what she can, thankful that she had not removed her shoes at the door. They watch with trepidation as she cleans their mess, until all sauce she could reach is wiped up and the kitchen just one step back into order as it was before. 
“Alfred, what are you cooking? It smells delicious.” The boys flinch as Marinette finally speaks after the long silence. 
“A simple dish for the boys to learn and Miss Mar’i’s favorite. Spaghetti with corn bread.”
“Wonderful, I have not had many dishes related to American-Italian food, I can’t wait to try it” 
“You can thank the boys here, they did most of the work” Marinette finally turned her full attention towards them, giving them a soft smile. 
“Thank you for cooking dinner for us.” Damian is trying his best to contain his laughter, they could only give her a shaking nod of their heads, eyes still wide. She only continues to smile at them, gently taking the spoon from Alfred. 
“Why don’t I help the boys finish dinner, that way you can relax for the night. Spend some time with Mar’i?” Alfred pats her cheek gently.
“Thank you Miss Marinette, the cornbread is on a timer and the noodles only need to be drained soon, vegetables are also on a timer.” Damian walks with Alfred back down the hall, smiling proudly alongside his grandfather. 
"Those boys are in for a surprise Damian" Alfred chuckles, leaning on Damians arm. 
"She's up to something, that's for sure" with one last backwards glance at the swinging door, Damian leads Alfred to the sitting Area, joining Dick and Bruce in the relaxing environment. 
Back in the kitchen Marinette hums softly, continuing dinner preparations while the boys have tried to distance themselves as far as they possibly can from the young woman. 
Jason sits stiffly on his stool, hands gripping his knees until his knuckles are white. He sends constant glances at the door, wondering if he should run or face her lecture like a man. Her humming was starting to put him on edge. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has not behaved like one would expect in this situation. Jason was flying blind. 
Tim, on the other hand, is trying to control his shaking by sitting with perfect posture for once, hands folded neatly in front of his on the marble top. With a glance you would picture him to be perfectly calm, if it were not for the beads of sweat on his brow or the constant fidgeting with his hands. He too was confused and on edge. He knew few women on a very personal level, and each and every one of them scared him, but at least he knew what to expect. Marinette being completely calm and unreactive left his head spinning. 
Both boys were used to yelling and even fist being thrown. Not gentleness and kindness. Just when the silence was getting too much to bear, she spoke again. 
"I must thank you both, you would have made a paranoid old man feel very justified" she sends another one of those smiles over her shoulder before turning back to the pasta mixture. 
“What?” They echo off each other. 
“My master saw a movie one day where they were listening in on phone calls. After that, he insisted we talked in code with each other when it related to temple business.” Content that the food was good to leave alone for a moment she turns to face the boys, almost laughing at their equally confused and tense facial expressions. 
“Glad we could help?” Tim is at a loss for how to proceed. Damian yelled at them, shouldn’t Marinette too? How would Damian even find someone this polar opposite from him? This must be a mind game, no other explanation. Tim would not lose. 
“Can you please just get this over with, we can take anything you have to say” Jason finally snaps, instantly regretting his tone but he couldn't take the drawn out punishment any longer. Hugging Bruce for twenty-four hours would be preferable to this. 
“And what, Jason, am I getting done and over with?” Damian had mentioned his brothers every so often, only in passing stories or complaints. It was quite easy to see who was who. Jason was known for being a hot head, quick to speak. Tim on the other hand, Damian had bragged about being taller than him, and well, he was clearly the shorter of the two. 
“Yelling at us for everything we did to you.” 
She smirks at them, leaning on her elbows staring at them in such a way they couldn’t help but feel as though she was searching their souls. Maybe she was; they didn’t know what kind of magic she knew afterall. 
“Oh that, I don’t care about that.” She shuts off the timer, removing the bread carefully while the boys processed her words. 
“You-you don’t care that we listened to your phone call?” Tim is the first to speak.
“Or the background check we did on you?”  Jason finishes. The boys relax a little, but again Tim is waiting for the rug to be pulled from under his feet (like that hadn’t been happening since she stepped foot in the kitchen). Jason had stopped looking at the door, hyperfocusing on Marinette body language. She was relaxed, moving about the kitchen like she had cooked within its walls her whole life. 
“Nope.” She says it with such sweet innocence, they obviously had different perceived notions on the seriousness of the topic. 
“Why?” 
“Because it's your job. How many times have you had to do something like this and it helped you save countless lives?” She easily finds the strainer in the first cabinet she checks. 
“Uh,”
“I can say I do not like or prefer my privacy being overstepped, but how can I hold that against you? How can I be upset by something that you do to protect people, especially those you love.” 
“What?” Each boy's response continues to be more intelligent than the last. 
Marinette giggles, “So no I am not mad at you guys for those actions.”
Tim narrows her eyes at her words, “That insinuates that you are upset with us about something.”
“Yes I am saddened by one thing and that is, that you don’t trust Damian.” She has stopped smiling, giving each boy a heartbroken look. She gives them time to think, finishing dinner preparations. 
“Of course we trust him,” Jason starts, offended that she would declare such a thing. Look at them with such disdain and judgment. Who was she to judge him and behave like she knows everything. 
“Yeah, he always has our backs, we would have died more times than we can count if he wasn’t there” Tim is now also on the offensive. Why did he fear her words again? She clearly knew nothing and was only on Damians side, her view of the situation had been tainted. 
Marinette watched each boy express their anger and pain. She sighs a little at their pride, but hopefully this conversation wouldn’t be too painful. 
“You trust him with those things, yes, but do you trust him with his own decisions?” Seeing that they didn’t have an immediate response, she continued on. 
“Have you ever let Damian make any decisions on his own? Even if you knew they could or would result in mistakes?”
“Of course we have, we aren’t Bruce or Alfred after all.” Jason grumbles, still put off by where the conversation was heading. He would rather she had just yelled at them by this point. 
“Then why didn’t you listen to him?” The sound of her stool scraping against the floor sends a feeling of unease through the room. 
“Because we-” Tim falters. “Because we thought we knew best” He finishes weakly.
“We just want to protect him,” Jason adds in defense, “We have been through things like this before. Better safe than sorry.”
“And is it better?” She takes a hold of their left and right hand respectively. “Is it better to lose a relationship with your brother or be there for him when he needs it?” 
She lets them process her words, their eyes are looking anywhere but at her, brows creased with thought and worry. 
“But he could have-” Jason starts angrily before glancing at Tim, the door, then Marinette. Jason couldn’t finish, she might not know, and the last thing he needed was to say something to break them up and get on Damians bad side again. 
“You were afraid he could die again?” The boys wanted to be shocked he told her, but clearly Marinette was a special woman. She squeezes their hands, the boys feeling calm and comfort now instead of anger. 
“We are all human. We all make mistakes,” Tim flinches, “But if we don’t, then how are we supposed to gain knowledge and growth?”
“But some mistakes are irreversible.” Jason mumbles.
“That is true, and those are the most painful.”
“We have made some of those mistakes, and we know how it ends, we can help stop him from living with our regrets” Tim argues, desperate to show Marinette how much good he meant, that he just wanted Damian to stay safe. 
She only smiles, “And that is a desire I never want you guys to push away, but you can’t protect him from everything. You can’t control everything, and you most certainly can’t control another person.”
Jason felt like he was slapped across the face just then. When had he started to behave like Bruce? When had he become so overbearing? 
Tim felt the knots retie in his stomach, and the constriction of his lungs retightened. He didn’t want to be controlling, but he needed to be in control. Now he was frustrated by this clear paradox. 
“Instead,” they focus in on her words, as the tone is a hopeful one, “Share with him your knowledge, give advice when he asks, and most importantly,” They are breathless now, completely captivated by her voice and eyes. Her eyes are intense, clearly this point needs to be taken to heart, while also having a soft edge to them, she isn’t angry, she is patient. 
“Be there for him when he needs you. It is better to have a relationship then a partnership isn’t it?” She waits a beat for her words to sink in before hopping off the stool to finish dinner, leaving the boys to process. 
“Thank you Marinette,” Jason is the first to speak, coming to stand beside her, helping her plate everything. “He picked a good one” She flushes at his words, flattered and embarrassed. The three adults are now content, a relationship of understanding growing between them. 
To bring a sense of normalcy, Jason launches into as many embarrassing stories of Damian he can recount while they finish dinner and set the table next door. Tim chimes in every now and then to correct him, or add detail, but otherwise stays out of the conversation. Marinette laughs heartily at each story, glad that there was still something to learn about Damian. She is glad to finally meet his family, after all she missed her own overseas. 
“And then he comes home with a cow right, don’t know how or where and he refused to tell us.” Marinette giggles at the idea of preteen Damian dragging a cow through the front doors of the Manor. They are walking the halls to retrieve the family for dinner when raised voices from the sitting area give the three adults a sense of urgency. 
Rounding the corner Marinette watches as a blond woman bares down on Damian, her finger in his face. He only looks annoyed, staring her down with narrowed eyes. Rather she would be bearing down if not for the height difference. She was almost standing on her tiptoes to get into Damian’s face. 
“You haven’t changed at all in the last decade!” The woman yells. “Stubborn and wrong to a fault again!” Her face flushed red, muscles tightened and her entire posture tense. 
Damian flinches, his body shifting only the slightest. The only outward sign that what was said hurt him. His arms wrap tighter around his body, spine straight. Marinette narrows her eyes before marching over and pushing herself into the woman's personal space. 
She takes a step back, blinking in surprise at the smaller asian woman invading her space. Her eyes widen when she finally processes who exactly is in front of her. “You-” she snaps her mouth shut however, her sentence unfinished. 
Stephanie is unsure what kind of person she is dealing with. While she stands defensively in front of Damian, her petite stature leaves her confused on whether or not she was truly a threat. However when Stephanie looks her in the eyes, she knows the answer to that question. There is more to her than there seems. Her eyes are hard in the iris, no other sign showed her clear anger at Stephanie. Or was Stephanie imagining the anger? She looked like she was going to cry more than anything.
"Steph that is enough" Tim grabs her hand, pulling her from the room. "Even I know that was uncalled for." She flinches at his quiet anger, bowing her head.Alfred continues to observe his new granddaughter. While she did well to hold herself with dignity, it was clear that she was just as upset as Damian about the words spoken. Marinette sighs deeply before turning to face the occupants of the room. Jason had taken a seat next to Dick at some point, whispering fiercely into his ear, a smug grin on his face. Marinette turns to Bruce, extending her hand. 
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you” 
“Likewise,” Bruce is surprised at the sight of the ring as she pulls her hand back. He was unaware that things between the two were so serious. One glance to Damian solidifies the fact in Bruce's mind. He looked so relaxed and in love, despite the tense situation just moments prior. 
Even as Damian grew up, his tough personality made it difficult for him to let people get close to him, and for people to desire to get close. Bruce thinks Damian never truly realized how lonely that was until he had graduated highschool. He was overjoyed for his son to finally let someone into his heart and to freely give his away. That was a truly proud moment for Bruce. 
“Please continue to stay by Damians side.” He does not quite know why he would request such a thing from her, just that he did not regret asking once he saw the resolve on her face. 
“I can’t imagine leaving him” Bruce nods, glad to hear her words, "and I apologize for the chaos i have brought to your home" 
"My dear, you have done no such thing. Their nightly activities have left them high strung and on edge" Alfred gently reminds her, "They get a little stuck in their heads on occasion" 
Marinette looks like she's about to argue with him, but a gentle touch to her shoulder from Damian has her smiling politely at Alfred instead. 
"Learn to accept you're not responsible for everything" Damian scowls at her, that only has her scowling right back. 
"I was just-" 
"Being ridiculous like always" Damian quickly finishes for her, giving her shoulder another squeeze. 
“What is it, my little bumgorf?" The room turns at the sound of the newcomer, Marinette gasping softly. Her skin was a glowing amber that contrasted like a sunset with her vibrant red hair. Her otherworldly green eyes were bright with joy. Marinette had never seen a more beautiful woman who would honestly make a great model for her line. That skin tone. 
 Dick rises, giving the woman a chaste kiss before settling his arm around her waist. “Marinette I would like you to meet my wife, Kori” 
“Nice to meet you” Marineete once again extends her hand but Kori pulls her into a hug, Marinette laughs. 
“Oh I’m so excited to have you join the family” 
“I can’t wait to get to know everybody”
"Mom, I'm hungry can we please eat now? Mar’i is pouting, both kwami sitting contently on her shoulders. 
"Of course my little bumgorf." The women decide to move to the dining room, the men following behind. Jason claps Damian on the back, pulling him into a hug. 
“Sorry for not trusting you. Marinette is quite the woman and you are very lucky.” Before Damian can respond, he moves ahead, cheeks flushed the slightest. 
“Wow, she can get Jason to apologize willingly” Dick laughs, before following after Jason, “Jay! Come back here” Father and son are left alone in the hall, both slowing their pace the slightest.
“I was unaware things were this serious” 
“She accepted everything about me”
“Everything?”
“She forgave me for my past actions,” Damian hesitates for a moment, but decides to push forward, “She said she loves me no matter what” 
“That is a very special trait to have” with that Bruce leaves, but not before gripping his youngest son's shoulder, the fatherly pride at his growth, both emotionally and physically. He is a fine young man. He can feel the emotions welling up, and quickly makes his leave, not comfortable with the vulnerability he associates with 'mushy' love. 
Damian smiles at his father's retreating figure and chuckles. Some things never change and he is thankful for that. Dinner goes smoothly for the rest of the night, Stephanie making up with the members of the room, the Kwamii introduced and questions answered. Dinner finished and goodbyes exchanged, Marinette promising to visit Kor’i and Mar’i soon. Damian and Marionette find themselves sitting in the car, each processing the night. Marionette seemed content with the outcome of the night humming softly to herself. The moon was still yellow and low in the sky, signifying the night had only begun. 
“So you gonna tell me what you talked to my brothers about?”
“You.”
“What about me?” 
“How sometimes the relationship is more important than the choices the other person makes.” Damian does respond right away after that, eyes narrowed in thought. 
“How did they take that?”
“Very well I think, but change doesn’t happen overnight so I’m sure their first reaction will be an overprotective one for awhile, so please be patient” 
“As long as I have you here to help me, I know I can change too” Marinette sighs happily at that, returning to watching the passing scenery out the window. Marinette watches in fascination as they approach the Wayne Tower in the middle of the city, entering the underground parking garage. Damian pulls into the secret entrance, parking the car in the large makeshift HQ. 
“Wow this is so cool. How does no one know that this is here?”
“We are very careful,” Bruce enters from a side room, already dressed for the night ahead. “Damian why did you bring Marinette here?” Bruce was already fond of his daughter-in-law to be and didn’t want her too close to the vigilante life. 
“I’m going out with you guys” She casually answers while exploring the area, looking at anything and everything. 
“What?” Jason and Tim say at the same time. One sounds incredulous while the other doesn’t seem too surprised. 
“I haven’t been out in so long, I can’t wait” She ignores the mens bewildered stares, looking towards the elevator. “Does that go all the way to the top?” 
“Yes, I’ll take you as soon as I’m ready.”
“Ok” She patiently waits for her love, continuing to examine the central computer station. “Look at this girls, isn’t this amazing. Imagine if we upgraded the temple with this stuff.”
“It would increase our appearance of wealth I guess,” Kalkki sighs, trying to not appear pleased at the obvious wealth her supreme has found herself in. 
“Come Habibti, we won't have all night,” Damian enters again in uniform this time. He wore a simple red and black ensemble, the trim of his cape and belt a muted yellow. His uniform differed from the other Robins with it being a tunic instead of a jumpsuit. His cape also had a hood and easy access to the sword on his lower back.
Marinete giggled all the way up to the top, Damian sending her questioning looks, which only made her laugh harder. Jason and Tim had decided to ride with them, curious as to why Marinette wanted to go to the roof. Exiting outside, Marinette takes a deep breath, enjoying the cityscape against the rising moon. With a quick flick of her fingers, she is engulfed in a deep red light. 
Damian admires her new look unabashedly. She wore what looked like a sleeveless tunic that went to her knees over a fully black bodysuit. Her tunic was red with black spots, trimmed in yellow with matching yellow tinted goggles. Her hair was hidden by the hood of her tunic and she had beautiful translucent wings at her back. 
“We match” She giggles again, dancing over to him on the tip of her toes. 
“At least I’ll know you’re mine” He caresses her face, hand trembling the slightest. Marinette can’t help but find the feel of his glove uncomfortable, clearly it was meant for grip, but she stayed still, letting Damian calm himself before they went out for the night. 
“Now please don’t be mad at me love, but I haven’t done this in so long” She starts after Damian had had his moment, slowly backing away  before taking a full run off the side of the tower. The boys gasp in fear, while Damian takes a deep breath through his nose. She can’t die, she can’t die. She can’t die. The mantra plays heavily in his head when he marches over the side, ready to chase after her. He watches as she free falls, her laugh ringing out through the city, possibly unnerving for the native. But to hear the joy she has behind it, he hopes everyone else is infected by it too. 
Marinette enjoys the feel of the wind around her, the hold gravity has over her stomach. She laughs at the feeling of adrenaline once again in a long time. Man she missed this. Finally she releases her wings, taking off through the Gotham air, dancing between buildings and gargoyles. 
She can feel him coming up behind her and slows herself enough for him to grab her, enjoying the sensation of being in her love's arms while swinging through the air. They touch down on a darkened rooftop, Each catching their breath. 
“You didn’t tell me you were a thrill seeker” He doesn’t sound mad, just reserved to the fact this this would be his life now. The worry and fear for her safety would never go away. But all in all, if it meant her joy and laughter, he would endure. 
“I haven’t free fell in so long, that was amazing!” She is still catching her breath, and still in his arms. As they both level out their breathing, they get lost in the other's gaze. 
“I love you Habibti,” Damian leans down to her, resting his forehead against her own, chuckling at the small antenna in the edge of her hair line. “I love you my little bug”
“And I love you my gorgeous Robin” She rises up to meet his lips, finding her home with him, and content with her choices. Ready to take on the world with him by her side. Partners in everything for the rest of their lives. Till death do they part. 
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TITLE: Sleepy Holloween
A/N: This Ichabbie Halloween fic is pure fluff and cuteness. No plot to be found here, just flirts and enjoyment.
“I’m sorry, Emily. I had to wait 300 years for a virgin to light a candle.”
An orchestra played an epic few bars of music, a drumroll sounded, and Abbie turned the TV off as the credits started to roll.
“Well, Crane, what’d you think?”
He turned to Jenny, who was cuddled up with Joe on the opposite end of the couch. “It was…palatable.”
Jenny gave him her blank stare of disbelief, and Joe smiled knowingly, but it was Abbie, who’d stayed tucked into his side for the duration of the movie, who prompted, “Come on, tell us what you really think.”
He glanced down at her, noting her sincere, if amused, look. “Is this, in all honesty, a children’s film?” he asked, genuinely perturbed.
“Well…not small children,” Joe supplied.
“And what is considered ‘small,’ Master Joe? I dare to presume there are parents who’d rather not expose young minds to witchcraft and the occult. It’s difficult enough for the four of us to manage it—but to appropriate it for entertainment on our youth…”
“You mean to tell me children in your day didn’t watch real life horrors worse than a little Halloween fantasy?” Jenny countered, forceful but kind. “That they weren’t exposed to hangings and gunfights and war? Not to mention the treatment of slaves.”
Crane looked duly reprimanded. "I suppose I can see where…times have altered enough that All Hallow’s Eve fantasy films are less traumatic than real life has been known to be.”
“And that’s your only comment on the film?” Abbie asked.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Certainly not. The inaccuracies in this movie are quite numerous.”
“Here we go,” Joe murmured good-naturedly, eliciting knowing smirks from the Mills sisters and a slightly offended look from Crane.
“To begin with, most cabins in the 17th century would be much smaller than the one Binx and Emily shared, and they likely would have slept in the same room as their parents, perhaps even in the same bed, depending on their economic status.”
“Oh! We’re starting at the beginning,” Jenny teased, extracting herself from Joe and stretching.
Crane tilted his head at her in disdain but continued as Joe and Jenny rose to take their leave. “By dawn, the entire town would have been roused and already about their day. The witch Sarah would not have had the opportunity to lure young Emily to her demise at daybreak.”
“Speaking of a break, we need to head out,” Joe explained, waving at them as they headed for the door.
“Good luck, Abbie,” Jenny threw over her shoulder, smirking as they exited the house.
Abbie smiled and waved, content to stay securely tucked into Ichabod’s side for a few more minutes, even if she had to listen to another historical inaccuracy rant in order to do so.
“You get three,” she stated.
He peered down at her questioningly. “I don’t understand.”
“Tell me three issues you had with the movie. Only,” she held up her hand against his coming dispute, “three.”
“Very well. One: If the witches had spent 300 years in eternal damnation, should they not have recognized that ridiculous man dressed as the devil wasn’t him? We’re supposed to believe they think Lucifer takes on human form, has also left the depths of Hades—the place they’ve just escaped from—and lives in a modern home with a wife and a dog?”
“Everyone’s gotta live somewhere,” Abbie teased, earning her a classic Ichabod glare.
“Two: When the sisters are chasing those poor children, Witch Winnifred mocks young Max’s words, ‘it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus.’” His professor’s finger came up, and Abbie did her best to refrain from smiling at him. “Regardless of the fact that ‘hocus pocus’ is a sham-Latin phrase that jugglers employed in the 17th century—not to mention a common stage name both they and magicians used—how would she have known he said such phrase since he hadn’t yet lit the black flame candle, and therefore she wasn’t in this realm?”
Abbie nodded, considering his point, but refrained from answering, instead holding up three fingers to remind him he was about to round home.
“And three: Since the sisters only returned for one All Hallow’s Eve and they spent it chasing those children around all of Salem, how in Heaven’s name did Witch Winnifred know what a driver’s permit is? It took me months to get mine, and that only after you spent every waking hour explaining the 21st century and all of its advancements and gadgets to me and teaching me how to master the iron horse.”
“Fair enough,” she conceded, mildly entertained by his nitpicking, though she couldn’t help adding, “It is a fantasy film, though.”
Ichabod looked pleased she agreed with him and nodded. “I do admit, it was a bit of fantastical fun though,” he allowed, his voice calmer now that he’d aired some of his grievances. “Quite comforting to know others fight the tyranny of evil, even if it is merely make-believe. Will we watch this every year?”
“It’s a requirement in this house. And since you live here too now…”
“Indeed I do.” He lifted an eyebrow, a flirty smile teasing his lips as he kissed her.
“Come on.” Abbie patted his thigh as she pulled away from him. “It’s time to get ready. The kids’ll be here soon.”
*****
“Abbie…are you coming down?” Ichabod called up the staircase.
“On my way. You dressed?”
She heard him mumble something about ‘infernal style,’ but then his voice carried up to her. “Yes, and most anxious to see your costume.”
Abbie didn’t know what to prepare for, either in terms of what costume he’d chosen or what he’d think of hers. She couldn’t help hoping he’d appreciate her outfit choice even more than he had her Beyonce get-up from last year—which he’d enjoyed just fine. She recalled how his appreciative gaze roamed from her full head of faux curls, across her face where she’d applied a classic but simple make-up style, lingered a few seconds too long on her lips before dropping down to her neck where her ‘Queen’ necklace caused him to smirk approvingly at the statement before sliding down to her unusually low-cut shirt, which provided a rare and revealing view of her cleavage. His eyes lingered again, then traveled down the length of her body to stare at her shorts with the bling on the pockets and her bare legs. After a few moments, he suddenly seemed to remember himself, and his eyes snapped up to her face where her knowing smile made him a bit embarrassed to have gawked at her so.
This outfit didn’t reveal her attributes in the same way, but she’d bet money it’d please him all the same.
She smoothed down the sides of her costume, then started down the stairs. Ichabod came into sight, standing tall, proud, regal, and ramrod straight, and she nearly tripped over her own feet. His hair had disappeared beneath a white sailor’s cap with a black bill and gold trim. The white jacket with epaulets on the shoulders and gold buttons running down the middle made his blue eyes shine even brighter than usual as he heatedly watched her descend the stairs. A single, thin, gold ribbon encircled the jacket’s wrists and striped down the sides of the white pants he wore, the entire uniform making him appear nobler and even taller than his 6 foot-plus frame.
She’d never expected to see him in a contemporary costume, having long since given up trying to get him to wear anything modern, and she had no clue what had possessed him to go military for Halloween. But he certainly didn’t disappoint, and she suddenly wished she had one of those old handheld folding fans ladies used to carry around to cool herself off with.  
Ichabod watched Abbie float down the stairs, mesmerized by her costume. She’d pinned all of her hair up, leaving a single, thick curl falling over her shoulder. Her dress, a deep green that complimented her beautifully flushed brown skin, had long sleeves that ended with a frill of off-white lace at her forearms. The court neckline, cut down nearly to her armpits, highlighted the length of her neck, her collarbones, the glow of her skin, and her bust. The dress’s bodice, an inset corset also in off-white, contrasted beautifully against the dark green of the rest of the dress and emphasized her petite frame and small waist. From her hips, the dress flared out and down to the floor, her tiny feet hidden beneath its layers.
She looked stunning, as though she’d stepped out of the Revolutionary War era with him. He knew his gaze lingered in awe, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d admit he loved seeing Abbie wear her modern-day clothes—blue jeans, form-fitting shirts, a silk robe, a tank top and short shorts to bed—though Heaven knew they all left little to the imagination, which he was both forever grateful for and infernally distracted by. But seeing her like this, resplendent in Colonial couture, left him speechless and mesmerized as she came to stand in front of him.
Abbie recovered first. “Hello there, sailor,” she cooed, a full smile gracing her face.
Ichabod mentally shook himself out of his stupor and swallowed hard. “Ah-ah, it’s Captain,” he corrected, pointing to one of the stripes gracing the left side of his chest.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, impressed. “O Captain, my Captain.”
“And no other’s,” he assured her, his voice dropping low. “Abbie….you look…” While his words trailed off, his hand started at her wrist and slid up her arm, over her shoulder, across her bare collarbone.
“Colonial?” she supplied, delighted her endeavor to please and surprise him had elicited this effect.
“Well, yes, but I was going to say 'magnificent,’” he explained as he tipped her chin up and kissed her, his other hand finding her waist.
He felt her smile against his lips, and he pulled away, then changed his mind and gave her another peck before taking her hands in his and a step back to drink in the sight of her once more.
“You seem very pleased, love.”
“I am,” she confirmed, smiling, watching his eyes roam over her again. “I wanted to surprise you with a little something from your…previous life.”
“Mission well accomplished,” he affirmed, tugging her towards him with their still-clasped hands. He leaned in close to kiss her neck. “Though I can’t wait to take this off of you,” he whispered against her skin.
“Ah,” she gasped, simultaneously easing away from him and pushing him away, though her hands remained on his chest. “Don’t start; it’s much too early for that. Besides…” Her eyes roamed heatedly over him again. “I need some time to enjoy you fully embracing the military style of today.”
“Mm,” he hummed, taking a step back from her and holding his arms out wide for her perusal. “So this suits you?”
“It suits you,” she returned cheekily. “It pleases me.”
He arched one brow. “How much, we shall find out later.”
“Indeed,” she agreed in a teasing tone, mocking his go-to affirmative.
One side of his mouth turned up, amused. “Shall we get on with the festivities, Mistress Abbie?” he asked, changing the subject before things got too out of hand. Heaven knew he’d need to try to keep things neutral in order to make it through the rest of the evening without ravishing her.
“Mistress? You know…that designation doesn’t mean the same thing now as it did before,” she informed him as she headed towards the kitchen.
“No? What, pray tell, does it mean now?”
She reached into the cabinets for the bags of candy she’d bought, handing them to him. “It usually refers to a woman in a relationship with a married man.”
“Has this generation found no end to the butchering of the English language? In my day, a mistress was the head of her home, holding a position of control and authority; it was a title of respect. It boggles the mind how a term of female empowerment has been subverted such that it now refers to something…tawdry.”
“Agreed; your definition is much better,” Abbie stated, pulling the large orange bowl with black bats all over it from another cabinet, setting it on the island between them. “You can call me Mistress, if you feel the need, with the understanding that you’re referencing the original meaning. How’s that sound?”
“But you are my Mistress,” he said matter of factly.
Abbie splayed her arms wide, gripping the countertop, and stared at him questioningly, waiting for him to explain himself.
“You’re the head of the household. And respected, of course. But you’re also a woman in a relationship with me, a married man.”
“But you’re married to me. That’s not…tawdry,” she mocked his phrasing again.
With a glint in his eye, one side of his mouth quirked up. “Not yet…but the night’s still young, my mistress Abbie.”
She shook her head, amused and not a little warmed by his flirtations, the smooth way he breathed her name sending heat dancing up her spine. “You’re incorrigible. And if you don’t stop, this will be the last time you see me wearing this costume.”
“That is the idea.”
Needing levity, she pointed to the bags of candy in front of him. “Will you open those and pour them in this bowl while I go turn on the porch light? Light on means free candy. Light off, kids skip the house.”
Ichabod tipped his sailor’s hat at her. “Your wish is my command, Mistress.”
“Mmhmm.” Though her heart thrummed wildly, she threw him a disbelieving look as she headed to the entryway, her dress swooshing around her as she moved.
She chosen her costume to surprise her dashing husband, but truthfully she enjoyed the dress herself. It made her feel feminine and stately. Not that she’d want to wear the layers and corset-style bodice every day—thank God she’d been born in the 20th century—but it was a nice change. Her childhood and her profession hadn’t allowed for many of life’s pleasures so she’d always made a point to have fun on Halloween as an adult. Choosing a costume each year—the range varying from Wonder Woman and a mermaid to a Greek goddess and Beyonce—gave her the opportunity to pretend she was someone else, imagine all the fantastical lives she could live if given the chance. It’d become one of her favorite holidays, and she hoped Ichabod would come to love it and all the ways to celebrate it too.
He’d certainly taken to it more this year than last. He’d huffed and chuffed as they’d searched the Spirit Halloween store the previous year, becoming more horrified by the evil nature of most costumes and more offended by the lack of creativity of women’s outfits with each passing aisle. After perusing the entire store, he’d resolutely decided on a colonial figure, which really hadn’t required a costume at all, and wouldn’t budge. This year he’d suggested they choose costumes separately. She’d thought he’d just rather avoid the pretense of shopping for an acceptable get-up when he knew one couldn’t be found to appease his colonial sensibilities, but he’d deliberately surprised her, just as she’d done for him.
“Why are these called 'fun size’?” he called out to her.
She saw him warily eyeing the miniature Snickers bar he held and smiled, making her way back to the kitchen. “Because they’re smaller than average.”
“Hmm,” he rumbled with uncertainty, tossing the candy back into the bowl before he realized he had an audience. His eyes landed on her again, taking in the exquisite dress and the beloved woman wearing it, and his expression changed. “I’m most certainly of the opinion that smaller than average is 'fun size,'” he teased, dropping a kiss onto her temple as he grabbed the candy-filled bowl and made his way into the living room.
Another 15 minutes passed before the doorbell rang with the first trick-or-treaters seeking candy, and the two jawed on about their day: the pumpkin carving fun they’d had with Joe and Jenny before they’d watched Hocus Pocus, how they’d each selected their costumes with one another in mind, how they’d spend the upcoming holiday season, and what they’d do with any candy left over if they didn’t give it all away tonight.
Sitting closer to the front door, Abbie got up to answer it, and Ichabod sprang up to accompany her. She unlocked the deadbolt and reached for the doorknob when she felt his hand upon her arm, restraining her.
“Hold on a moment, Fun Size,” Ichabod’s voice rumbled from behind her as he curled himself around her and slid his hand down her arm to cover hers. “A captain must ensure his mistress is safe at all times.”
She smiled at his flirtation as he peered through the window at the top of the door, a full head above her own height. “Such chivalry,” she preened.
“Tis my duty,” he corrected.
“And your pleasure.”
“You’ve no idea,” he informed her, leaning down to kiss her bare neck. But before he could, Abbie ducked beneath his arm and out of his embrace.
“Not as of yet,” she taunted, throwing him a brazen smile and opening the door with one hand, grabbing the candy bowl off the entryway table with the other.
A small princess, Thor, and a clown stood on the porch, candy baskets held aloft as they all chimed ‘Trick or Treat!’ together.
Abbie grinned at the excitement on their faces and graciously dropped candy into each of their bags, waving as they skipped away to the next house.
“My, I do see the joy of celebrating All Hallow’s Eve in this fashion.”
His voice came from behind her, and she turned a bit to see him watching the children roam around on their street in a myriad of costumes: dragons, superheroes, monsters, pumpkins, fairies, and Disney characters.
“No wonder children enjoy it so immensely.”
“And you, Captain Crane?” she wondered, happy seeing the delight on his handsome face. “Are you enjoying it?”
He peered down at her and smiled contentedly. “Yes,” he affirmed, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him as they stood in the doorway waiting for their next visitors, and he dropped a kiss on the crown of her head, causing them both to smile. “Yes, I most certainly am.”
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wittyvitale · 3 years
Text
Never Truly Gone (A Netflix Castlevania fanfic)
Summary:  Sypha is 9 months pregnant and has just received word that her grandfather is dying. She asks Trevor to take her to the Speaker caravan so she can say her final farewells. Background Sypha/Trevor. Sadfic, minor character death, fluff and angst.
Sypha had received news from her caravan that her Grandfather’s health had taken a turn for the worse. It was unlikely that he would survive another night. Sypha was 9 months pregnant with her third child and was due to give birth at any moment. But she couldn’t just stay home when she knew that the man who raised her was dying. So she demanded that Trevor take her to the caravan’s site by wagon so she could say her final farewells.
Sypha had trouble with her mobility these days. With the baby inside her almost fully developed, it was hard for her to do something as simple as standing up. When Sypha and Trevor reached the caravan site, Trevor helped her off of the wagon, arm around her waist to steady her.
“I can make it the rest of the way,” Sypha said with a somber tone, the gravity of the situation settling on her shoulders now that she was here. “It’s only a few steps to the tent. And this is something I need to do alone.”
Trevor nodded in understanding. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be right here.”
Sypha nodded gratefully and hugged Trevor before she trudged towards the tent. When she opened the front flap, she was greeted by the 10 Speakers, looking just as somber as Sypha. The faces of everyone slightly brightened upon seeing their dear sister. Sypha was greeted with hugs, cheek kisses, and a few strokes on her pregnant belly.
“Is that my Sypha?” a frail, familiar voice called from the corner of the tent. Sypha saw her grandfather lying on a makeshift bed consisting of straw and furs. She felt her eyes fill up with tears at the sight of him.
“Yes, Papi, it’s me.” Sypha choked out, doing her best to hold back her tears. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Arn said comfortingly. “We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
With that, the Speakers exited the tent, leaving Sypha and her grandfather alone. Sypha walked over to her grandfather and carefully lowered herself to sit on the haybale by his bedside. She immediately took his hand and held it gently.
“Oh Sypha, I’m so happy to see you,” her grandfather started. “How are you, my angel?”
“I’ve been well, grandfather.” Sypha said, forcing a small smile.
“And how are the little ones?”
“Growing up too fast,” Sypha answered with a small laugh. “Sonia is 7 and Christopher is 2 now. They’re both so much like their father, in both looks and personality. Trevor’s started teaching Sonia how to use a whip and she’s already a natural. And little Christopher is entranced by their training sessions. That boy is filled with energy and can’t stay still for a minute. But when he sees his papa and sister whip training, he sits down with his mouth wide open.”
Her grandfather laughed. “Such spirited great-grandchildren I have. What a blessing they are.” He slipped his hand out of Sypha’s and rested it on her stomach. “And how about this little one?”
Sypha looked down with a soft smile. “Very energetic as well. I’ve been kicked nonstop for the last few weeks. The midwife says I will give birth before the week is over.”
“What wonderful news. The birth of a new life is one of the most beautiful things in this world.”
“There’s something else about this baby…”
“Hmm?”
Sypha’s smile became wider. “I think this child will be more Belnades than Belmont. Since the day I could feel it kicking, I felt something I never did when I was expecting Sonia and Christopher; magic. This baby has potential to become a great magician, I can just feel it. I can’t wait to teach this child, to pass down my own knowledge and skills.”
The Elder began to chuckle. “I had almost this exact same conversation with your mother when she was expecting you.”
Sypha’s eyes widened. “I think that’s one story you never told me.”
“Really now? Well, why don’t I share it with you now; a story about your mother as my final gift to you.”
Sypha felt the tears welling up in her eyes again and swallowed the lump in her throat.
“As you know, your mother, my beautiful Alma, was a very skilled magician. She could control the elements flawlessly. When Alma learned that she was pregnant, she was so anxious. She was in constant consultation with our healers and other women in our caravan who had experienced childbirth. She scoured the libraries in each town we visited and read through all the books about childrearing. But the more she read, the more nervous she became. She was convinced that she would be an unfit mother, that she would be unworthy of you.”
Sypha listened to the story intently and wordlessly encouraged her grandfather to continue.
“And one day, Alma came to me in tears and shared all of her fears and worries about motherhood. You see, Sypha, she already loved you dearly. She wanted to do her best by you, but she was scared that her best wasn’t good enough. So do you know what I told her?”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her to stop focusing on the things that she didn’t know and to focus on what she did know. I encouraged her to focus on the child in her belly and asked her what she felt. When Alma had calmed her mind and focused on the unborn child, she realized that a strong presence of magic was within the child. She realized that her child had the potential to be a great magician. Oh Sypha, your mother was so excited when she realized this. She started listing all of the spells and all of the secret knowledge she wanted to teach you. She had calmed down considerably. The other women in our caravan taught her about the more basic knowledge of childcare while Alma figured out what she wanted to teach you. And 3 months later you were born, kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, wanting the whole world to know that you had arrived.”
Sypha laughed; she had always been told she was a “little spitfire” as a child.
“And she did,” Sypha started. “Mother taught me everything she knew about magic when I was just a little girl. I learned so much from her, and that foundation helped me become the magician I am today. But… but then that day came when mother and father were taken and I-“
“Shhhh,” the Elder interrupted, putting his hand on Sypha’s cheek. The Elder looked over his granddaughter’s face carefully and smiled. “You look so much like your mother. And you are just like her too; brave, strong, intelligent. She lives through you, you know. Nobody who leaves this earth is ever truly dead. Our spirits go on living in different forms and watch over the ones they love. Your mother and father have always been with us, have always been with you. I know they are proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Sypha couldn’t hold back anymore and tears began to fall down her face. Her grandfather gently brushed her tears away.
“And I am so proud of the woman you’ve become. You’ve saved countless lives across this country. You’ve not only defended the vulnerable with your strength, but you used your kindness to bring aid and comfort. And now you are continuing to do this while raising a beautiful family. You and Trevor are good together. Your children are growing into fine human beings. I’ve no doubt you will nurture the child within you as you have done with your other children. I love you so much, Sypha.”
Sypha’s tears flowed even stronger as she wrapped her arms around her grandfather’s neck and buried her face in his chest. “I love you too, Papi.” She choked.
Grandfather and granddaughter stayed like this for a few minutes, Sypha crying into her grandfather’s chest while he gently stroked her hair. Sypha slowly lifted herself up and swiftly brushed the tears out of her eyes before taking her grandfather’s hand in hers again.
“It’s time, Sypha.” the Elder stated.
“I know.” Sypha answered with a sniffle.
“Continue to live, my Sypha,” the Elder said. “Continue to walk the path of true light and righteousness. I will always be with you. And I will always love you.”
Sypha brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I will, I promise. I love you. And… and thank you, thank you for everything, Papi.”
Sypha held her grandfather’s hand until it went limp in her own. She no longer saw his chest rise and fall, and it was then that she knew he was gone.
Sypha walked out of the tent with her tearstained face and all of the Speakers turned in her direction. She confirmed their assumptions with a simple nod. All at once the Speakers gathered around Sypha, crying, hugging, and comforting one another. Once Sypha had finished embracing every last member of her family, she walked over to the wagon where Trevor was waiting.
“Is he…” Trevor began.
“Yes.” Sypha confirmed, tears flowing down her face again. Trevor wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a gentle hug.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly as he rubbed comforting circles on her back.
Sypha began to sob, the grief finally overtaking her now that her grandfather was truly gone. She held onto Trevor tightly and cried into his shoulder. Trevor continued to hold her and gently rocked her. They stayed like this for a long while until Sypha had run out of tears and was ready to go back into the wagon.
Trevor helped her onto the seat and Sypha spent much of the journey home in silence, her head resting heavily on Trevor’s shoulder. Today she would grieve. But she kept her grandfather’s last words in her heart; she would continue to live, to defend and bring comfort to anybody who needed it. And she knew he would never really be gone. He would continue to live in her, to watch over her for the rest of her life. And though Sypha was heartbroken at this loss, these thoughts provided a little bit of comfort.
Endnotes:  I honestly don't know what prompted me to write this, maybe it's the increased depression I've been feeling since in lockdown and being forced to think of my own family losses. But I'm actually happy with how this turned out. It's been awhile since I wrote a sadfic. And I'm thinking of writing another fic as a companion piece that focuses on the birth of Trevor and Sypha's 3rd baby. We'll see if inspiration strikes. Thanks for reading.
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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years
Text
April 14: 2x15 The Trouble with Tribbles
Back to watching TOS on Wednesdays! We’ll see if I can keep this up because I do prefer it to Fridays.
Today’s episode: the Classic (tm) Trouble with Tribbles.
Starting out with a little test for Chekov lol. Just Chekov, his mentor, and his mentor-in-law.
My mom called Chekov “Kirk and Spock’s little project,” which I think is hilarious but also probably true. Only 22 years old and on the bridge crew? Private quiz by the top two people on the ship? Legit interpretation.
“It was just a little joke.” / “Extremely little, Ensign.” Classic Spock burn.
The Organian Peace Treaty--from Errand of Mercy??
I really do feel like Kirk is genuinely amused by Chekov.
You would never guess from this intro about tense diplomatic situations and number-one-top-priority-triple-red-alerts that this was going to be a crack-y episode about space bunnies.
Oh no, a fake red alert! Kirk is really angry now.
Kirk and Spock are very Married today.
STORAGE COMPARTMENTS?? StOrAgE cOmPaRtmEnTs?
WHEAT??
Do not try to imply that Spock doesn’t know things; he is contractually obligated to show off.
Canadian wheat.
Honestly, just let Kirk call it wheat.
Spock is using diplomacy to reign Kirk in. Sarek would be proud. And Spock would be insulted that Sarek is proud.
Kirk is very Sassy today.
Omg the waitresses have little wings.
Spock taking the wheat from behind his back and giving it to Kirk like a magician’s assistant.
I feel like Kirk is bitter about the wheat because it’s the one (1) thing he’s not a nerd about. And he’s from Iowa too!! He should know!
Uhura listening to the salesman; well she IS here to shop, after all.
Is it alive? Is it cute? Oh who am I kidding, I can see it’s cute!
Oh no the tribble is eating the grain.
Uhura is truly adorable.
I can’t believe she just made a joke about never getting any shore leave and here she is, back at her station again.
Can you even imagine AOS Kirk being tasked with protecting a bunch of grain? HE would make Iowa jokes.
And Spock is trying so hard not to laugh.
Tbh I have a real soft spot for these frustrated Kirk episodes. Poor, long-suffering Kirk. So much more serious than all of the nonsense going on around him.
I like this space station design.
Klingons on shore leave. They just want to have some fun. No bowling alleys on their ships!
Technical journal time for Scotty!
“I am immune to their effect....” Sure. What’s funny to me is that Kirk actually is immune to their effect. Truly at no point does he seem charmed or amused by or even interested in the tribbles, except in their capacity as Klingon detectors at the end
“I think they’re old enough [to be adopted].” Lol how can you tell?
One look from Spock reigns Kirk in. #spacehusbands
Oh, you noticed there are 11 tribbles instead of 1? How astute.
“What do you get when you feed a tribble too much?” / “A fat tribble.” This is ACTUAL DIALOGUE. Oh, Kirk.
Honestly McCoy is a medical doctor, so it kind of would make more sense for Spock to be doing these tribble experiments but he has his hands full with Kirk
Kirk is awfully insistent upon Scotty taking shore leave when he should very well remember what happened last time
“You’d think he’d be a vodka man.” And he is!
Klingons don’t understand Kirk at all. He IS a little soft <3
Where’s that post that’s like ‘the AOS writers just listened to this one Klingon speech about Kirk and wrote his character based on that?” I mean... not totally inaccurate.
Actually it is a potentially interesting speech. Is this really how his enemies see him based on his reputation? Or is it just, like, a bunch of generic insults you could apply to pretty much any captain of a group you didn’t like?
Poor Kirk, missing out on this fight scene.
Lol the drink joke. Does it make sense? No, but it’s funny all the same.
“Captain’s log: I am forced to cancel shore leave.”
Angry Daddy!Kirk and his unhelpful children. You’re ALL grounded!!
“No this is not off the record!” Not even gonna debate that Scotty.
This whole Kirk and Scotty scene deserves an Emmy.
Spones + Tribbles
The extra hilarious thing about Spock talking about the uselessness of the tribbles and Bones defending their cuteness as being an end in and of itself is that Spock DOES canonically like soft, pleasing animals. Even in this episode!!
The tribble wants to be captain.
Kirk collecting tribbles lmao.
“Don’t look at me, it’s the tribbles that are breeding.”
The tribbles are bisexual. Just like Captain Kirk. (Yes this is two different uses of the term that mean totally different things and I do NOT care I just like hearing the word “bisexual” in DeForest Kelley’s voice.)
I feel like Uhura must be so lonely.. Trying to talk to Spock about the moon. Meeting shape shifting aliens who become native Swahili speakers just for her. Trying to buy love in the form of small, cute animals.
The tribbles have been taken from their predator-filled environment. I am VERY curious about their native environment now. What eats tribbles?
“It’s you I take lightly.” Honestly this level of sass almost makes AOS Kirk seem IC.
“Licensed asteroid locator and prospector.” Brb changing careers.
“But he is after my grain!”
Kirk saying “au revoir” is funny on its face for how he echoes Cyrano what’s-his-face but also because it reminds me of Shatner saying “I’m from Canada, so I speak French.”
No, the tribbles got in his food! That is the last straw.
It’s hard to tell because it’s covered in tribbles, but Spock appears to have a very odd looking salad. (Or that large piece of fruit is a tribble, really hard to tell.)
Spock’s “fascinating” was so quiet.
“They’re into the machinery all right.” First, lol, and second, isn’t Scotty supposed to be in his room thinking about what he’s done?
You can really see that missing finger.
Gonna beam down some tribbles too.
And now to top off this bad day: the indignity of having a bunch of dead tribbles fall on his head. To wacky music.
“Gorged? On my grain?” It’s more likely than you think.
And like........you realize someone off set is just continuing to throw little puff balls at Shatner's head at regular intervals during this whole scene? One just bounced right off it.
And the answer to the tribble problem is literally “stop feeding them” which is so obvious that I assumed it was just harder than one would think not to feed a tribble. Since no one fed them. And they continued to eat.
I also love how Bones comes into his best friend literally buried in tribbles and doesn’t even blink.
Whereas Spock’s here with his mouth this thinnest possible line, trying not to laugh.
They like Vulcans! They have good taste.
Spock is definitely that type that has secret low self esteem so he builds himself up with confident comments at every opportunity.
“He’s a Klingon, Jim.”
Kirk REALLY likes threatening the Klingons with tribbles.
I feel like leaving Cyrano to single-handedly clean up the tribbles over 17 years is not a punishment that makes sense because like... must the station live with the tribbles until then? Also, where is he to put them?
I think they should be returned to their native habitat to be eaten by predators according to the natural cycle of life.
Are we to understand that SPOCK suggested beaming the tribbles on to the Klingon ship? Perhaps I have underestimated his prank war abilities.
I’ll be honest, this ep is very entertaining and for that reason one of my favorites, but I don’t know that it paints the Enterprise, and Kirk in particular, in the best light.
Like... I am really torn on Kirk’s treatment of the undersecretary. I know he often doesn’t much like administrators and diplomats and other people who don’t seem to have much RL experience, and certainly this Federation official got on his bad side immediately and understandably by misusing the red alert.
But... Kirk isn’t at all subtle about not liking him. I mean he literally says “I don’t like you” and that’s just objectively unprofessional, which he is not. The sassiness was way unsubtle, which could be funny, but it just didn’t seem IC.
I can almost justify it because of the red alert mix up--that’s everything Kirk hates: violating regulations, showing disrespect to him and his crew, uncalled for manipulation--and I think he has the right to be upset about it. But he continues holding this grudge for a long time. It feels like it’s just as much about not personally caring about the grain as about anything else. Like he’s dismissive about the grain because he personally has never heard of it. So obviously it’s not important.
That’s too much that conventional-wisdom arrogant, dumb Kirk for me.
I guess I just don’t understand, why so much hatred for the undersecretary? Because his two biggest sins were the red alert and employing a Klingon. But as I already said, I think Kirk’s ire is disproportionate to the first offense and no one knew about the Klingon until the end--because a tribble, not Kirk specifically, found him out.
Otherwise..this guy was right! The grain was important, losing it or having it sabotaged would have very bad consequences for the Federation, it is Kirk’s job to guard it, and he should do it well. He was also right that the Klingon threat was real!! He’d brought in the Klingon threat but he was still right about it existing. The Klingons did in fact sabotage the grain! And although we hear at the end that there was magically more grain out there... I don’t get how or from where.
Furthermore, he used the red alert specifically because he seemed to think Kirk wouldn’t rush over to protect the grain otherwise, and Kirk is so dismissive of this “just wheat” that he kinda proves the guy right!
Anyway, I can see the grains of this Kirk (lol pun not intended) in his general characterization, but it’s too over the top, to the point where it’s OOC. He does take his job, including the diplomatic aspects of it, very seriously, and I think an IC Kirk would protect the grain, and maybe be only occasionally, subtly sassy to the undersecretary.
But this was such a crack-y episode overall... it was like everyone was turned up to 11 and pushed slightly to the side.
It was a fun ep though with a lot of very classic scenes, and it’s another reminder that Spock likes soft, adorable animals.
I will admit that I actually do not think the tribbles are particularly cute. They kind of weird me out. They’re just lumps of fur.
Next is The Gamesters of Triskelion, which I vaguely remember as a decent but not great episode.
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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years
Text
From Utu’s Temple Pt 2 (Gilgamesh, Siduri)
Thus far: 1
__
Eight Years Later
__
She’d escaped the temple again.
Weaving her way through the crowds of marketplace people, her cloak firmly wrapped around her body, Gula couldn’t help but to be excited about the adventure today. Her brother was so careful, guarding her like a lost treasure. Her mother was so concerned about them venturing out, keeping close to Grandpa Utu and Grandma Aya.
However, she knew nothing was better than the river breeze after a heavy rain. The large puddles were fun to splash in, muddying her skirts and cloak. The riverside was filled with fish who’d jumped out of the water in the heavy rains, thinking themselves amongst the currents. She’d dug a careful hole earlier in the day, before the others had awakened and while the earth was soft. Now she could see the fruits of her labor.
Her mother always said that meat was a delicacy. Today she would bring lots home.
Gula hurried up, scooting around a stray horse and beneath the large bridge that went from one side of the great Euphrates to the other. She could see the overflowing river. She could see some smelly dead fish, being pecked away at by the scavenger birds.
Her hole was filled though, a splashing showing signs of success.
“Yes!” Gula cheered, quickening her pace. She pulled the pouch from beneath her cloak, setting it down upon the soft earth and opening it.
Her brother’s knife from Grandpa Utu was in hand in a flash, slicing one after another of her catch.
She set each carefully into her pouch, pleased at the size and the colors of them all.
There were eight. They’d be dining like a king!
“YOU! THERE!”
Gula jumped, scrambling to pick up her pouch as a set of men appeared. Their grip was upon a figure, the man’s golden armor was coated in blood.
“GIRL!”
She ran for it, but the others were closing in. She could see the symbols on their armor. She knew those medallions from her grandmother’s teachings.
Nippur citizens!
If they were hurting someone, then it was an Uruk person.
Their hands grabbed at her cloak, yanking her back. She couldn’t think, not at the sight of a knife. She spun her twin’s blade in her hands, sending it into the face of the man holding her. The heel of her other hand slammed it home, yanking it out as another went to grab her.
Her hand rose, blasting energy into the faces of the other three.
She didn’t think, only felt. She felt scared. She felt lightning in her veins, spurring her like Iskur’s mightiest storms. She flew from one to the next, slamming blow after blow.
But then a shadow rose.
She could feel their presence as her blade went flying out of hand. She could see the man’s eyes, the whites of them reflecting her own face. Her mouth was open, a sound escaping-
Gold flashed before her.
A sharp squishing sound met her ears, blood pouring towards her as she saw the assailant falling. The man from before, the golden armored man who had been being carried, was now before her. There was a large slash and crack in his armor.
“…M-Mister!”
Gula felt a lump forming in her throat. Her vision was swimming as the man pulled away from the bad man. He was looking to her.
“Mister! You’re hurt!”
“Your eyes…”
The man looked so much like Grandpa Utu and her brother. Gula couldn’t help but to feel the water around her eyes falling forth. She had to rub at her face with her sleeves, pulling at the armor and looking at all the blood.
The wounds were bad, worse now that the sword of the bad man had been pulled out.
He wouldn’t live if she left him like this. She needed her brother, Ur-Nungal here. He would have been able to help this man. He always was teasing her at being bad at magic. He always warned her that she would need the magic at some point and she would be useless.
“…I-I’m sorry.” She couldn’t help it. Her voice cracked as she looked at the pretty man, feeling her heart tear in two. “I should have listened to my twin. I-I can’t do magic well. I can’t-“
“You can do magic?”
His voice was just like her brother’s. Gula nodded to him, feeling her chest shaking in soundless sobs.
“Do you have the energy? Right now?”
The man was pulling off his armor more, throwing it aside as he looked to her.
“Girl, do you have that power right now?”
“I’m not good at magic. My ummum and brother can. My ummum is the best. My twin and I were born from a half god and my ummum. My brother can do anything-“
“You can do this.”
She shook her head, her sobs beginning to escape.
“Shhhh,” the man murmured. “Shhh, there is no time for finding help. I feel my senses fading already. You merely need to hold onto my shoulders and imagine the wounds closed. Imagine me without the pain and torn up chest. Can you do that?”
“I have to do more though-“
“Listen. To. Me.”
He made her look into his eyes, his gaze dark and focused.
“Can. You. Imagine me without the pain and wounds?”
Gula nodded.
“We do this together,” he told her, keeping that gaze. His hands moved hers to his shoulders, holding them there. “What is your name?”
“Gula. I was named after my grandmother and patron goddess… OH! But don’t tell my ummum that I picked a goddess!”
“Gula, focus.” The man held her hands to his shoulders. “Close your eyes. Imagine giving me the energy to heal. Wish all the pain away.”
Right.
It wasn’t much, but she had to try. She had to do something.
Her eyes closed, her thoughts focusing only on seeing the man able to stand and run again. She wanted the man like her brother and grandfather to be able to laugh and feel better again. He didn’t need to die here, like the fish being eaten by the buzzards. He was too pretty. He was too kind in saving her.
“You’re doing well,” the man murmured. “You are doing very well. Just a little more, Gula. I will be fine from there.”
She pushed for more power, giving as much as she could.
Her eyes opened as she felt her body swaying.
“I’ve got you.” The man wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as she saw the wound was closed. “You did well. I am healed and you’ve saved the great king of Uruk. Let none tell you that you cannot use magic.”
“I did it?” Her eyes drifted up to his, earning a soft smile.
“I am able to breathe and function again because of you, little one. You’ve done your family proud. Your goddess would be pleased to hear that someone of her namesake saved her son’s life.”
“Ninsun is my abum’s ummum too.” She closed her eyes, humming happily. “I can’t wait to tell my brother that I saved someone with magic. He teases me too much.”
“…Your father is the child of Ninsun?”
“Mhmm.” Gula leaned against the man. “I left my fish beneath the bridge. I caught them for Ummum since she was feeling lonely and sad again. I think she misses my abum.”
The man nudged her gently. “What is her name?”
“Ummum is named Hakuno.”
“Hakuno… Hakuno…”
Gula glanced up, watching the man looked at her once more. His eyes were strange like hers, making her reach up and touch his cheek.
She frowned.
“Why do you have strange eyes like mine?”
“Child-“ he shook his head as he said that. “Gula, your eyes are exact copies of mine. As is this power of yours. It is little wonder you’ve done this… You said you had a twin brother?”
“Mhmm.” Gula closed her eyes again. “And Ummum and Grandpa Utu and Grandma Aya. Utu and Aya keep us in their temple. Grandma says it’s dangerous to let anyone see us outside the temple. Someone may tell the bad guards that hurt ummum.”
“Gula-“
“I’m sleepy.”
The man sighed, standing up with her in his arms. She could feel him adjusting her around, turning to head towards the kingdom.
“Please don’t leave my fishies and my brother’s knife. I took the knife without asking.”
“Thievery?”
“Ur doesn’t share his weapons. He has more knives and he’s just mean.”
She hummed at the soft kiss to her forehead. It felt like ummum’s own, except with rough little hairs from the man’s chin.
“Mister-“
“I’ll grab your meager knife and fish. Close your eyes and rest for now. We’ll return to Uruk and I will ensure that you are cleaned up before we inform the temple of Utu of your presence.”
She nodded, letting the fatigue take over.
The man was safe and alive. She’d been like the great magicians in their storybooks. She’d managed what many adults could never do.
One day, she’d protect her twin brother and they’d roam all over the kingdom of Uruk, free from cloaks and able to laugh like the other children.
Maybe they could wear nice clothes too.
“I will keep you with me, little treasure,” the golden haired man told her. “Let us return to my ziggurat.”
“Don’t forget my fish,” she mumbled in a slur of words.
His soft chuckle welcomed her to sleep.
~~
“My king!”
Siduri was the first to reach him at the palace doors, her face paling at his muddied and bloodied appearance. The guards had taken the heavy pouch of fish and the girl’s knife was in his gates, safe and sound from being taken.
Speaking of the girl...
“Siduri,” Gilgamesh held up the girl in his arms, frowning. “Call forth the guards, inform them to head into the audience chamber for me. And find me servants. This girl needs to be bathed and dressed properly.”
“Properly?”
“I have children.”
The woman stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. A natural reaction, all things considered. There had never been so much as a whisper of a child of his. His maidens whom he took pleasure in never bore him so much as a headache, opting to simply revel in further lust and senseless greed.
“She shares my eyes and my mother’s voice and power. Along with that, she has my mother’s own name for herself. Gula.”
“Gula?”
It was ironic, he knew. Then again, he recalled slightly the woman whose face this child shared. Hakuno. If he remembered right, she’d been a magician. She’d been a phenomenal bed companion. 
Her death, his close advisor and the guards had informed him about, had left him disappointed.
Something had been amiss then. He should have guessed then, considering that advisor had grouped up with Nippur recently and caused him such trouble. Him and his useless daughter whom he’d slaughtered a week ago.
“...Is she... Is she alive, my king?”
“Hmm?” The question pulled him from his thoughts, making him glance to Gula. “Yes, she’s alive. She’s a child though. innocent as they come. Have a bed for her set up in my chambers in case she does not wish to rest beside her father.”
“You intend to claim her?”
“Siduri, my daughter slaughtered a handful of men and assisted me when it was most appropriate.”
He could still hear her crying over being unable to help him, a stranger, to feel better. The girl was without influence, purer than the clearest jewels in his collections. Ah, but then-
“I’ll take her to bathe myself.”
Siduri pulled back as he passed her, heading for the bathing chambers. 
“Prepare her bed in my room and inform the guards to assemble in my audience chamber.” 
“May I know what for, my king?”
“Later, you will see.”
She would be finding him servants to clean up the bodies when he was through with them. 
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heliothen-stories · 4 years
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Hello everyone! I’m finally introducing my wips!
Please tell me if you would be like to be added to my tag list for any of these wips :D
We’ll fly together again
Almost a hundred years ago, a Sorceress named Erato became the bodyguard of a demon princess, Aurelia. Together they would come to face many secrets and conspiracies as they became more enthralled in the heart of the demon court. Soon, a strong bond was built between them. But then … they died.
Years passed, and Erato got reincarnated as a demon herself. With no memories of her past life and going by the name Bee, she gets sent to the Stargazer Academy to investigate what seems to be a normal case of haunting. However, this case might hide more secrets than normally anticipated, and soon she will learn that the past that she has been searching for might have been searching for her just as much.
Genre: urban fantasy, NA
Additional info: wlw main couple, many queer characters and relationships, reincarnation, angst but with a happy ending, supernatural creatures galore
The rest of my wips are under the read more~
Into the witch’s cauldron
Being the only human in a school for Sorcerers is hard, especially when both of your parents are Sorcerers and the Headmistress is your mother, but Lethe is set on proving that magic cast by human witches can be just as powerful as a Sorcerer’s. However, she goes a little overboard with her magic and when she frees someone who should have stayed locked she runs away from the school to escape punishment.
Running away proves to be both more difficult and more fun than she anticipated and soon she finds herself in the city of Callithae, one of the most enchanting and mysterious places in this world. Living with a far too welcoming werewolf pack and carrying with her an endless curiosity, nothing will stop her from experiencing all the city has to offer and causing some shenanigans along the way.
But her past just doesn’t seem to want to leave her alone.
Genre: urban fantasy, YA
Additional info: wlw main couple, found family, supernatural creatures galore once again
Rooftop talks
Starting her second year in university, Sonia has to deal not only with the increasing number of art assignments but also with the thin walls of her apartment. Wanting to escape the very loud television of her next door neighbor, she decides to go to the rooftop of her apartment building, a place that always brings her inspiration. There she meets the person that lives above her and he just happens to be the loudest neighbor of them all. While their first meeting doesn’t go the best way, through a series of random encounters on the rooftop the two start to build a close relationship and feelings begin to develop.
Genre: romance, NA or YA? Who knows?
Additional info: m/f relationship and both of them are bisexual disasters, just a funny-fluffy read
Before the roses take us (a beauty and the beast retelling)
Once upon a time, a wandering merchant stumbled across a castle. A castle that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. While she doesn’t think much of her arrival there, the truth is that she might be the only hope for the castle’s two inhabitants, a prince and his magician. The prince is cursed and the curse affects not only him, but also those around him. For the curse to be broken, the prince has to realize what love truly means. But love doesn’t have just one face and it doesn’t always come the way you would expect it.
Genre: fantasy, YA 
Additional info: I am very proud of many of my little plot twists which I don’t want to spoil, so if the description seems a little vague it’s because it is, lots of queer characters, figuring out your sexuality, I’m trying to have a balance of both funny and darker themes
When you call the love experts
Do you have trouble asking your crush out? Do you have no idea how to plan a first date? Or maybe you just need someone to play music while you and your crush look at the sunset on a sandy beach.
Look no further: the cupid gang’s got your back!
Melina and her two best friends, Khai and Trice, are the people to call when you have crush problems. Love advice, first date advice, even fashion advice is their thing. But when they get called to help the school’s star basketball player, Yvonne, ask out one of her teammates, Penelope, then it might be Melina finding love for a change.
Genre: romance, YA
Additional info: wlw main couple, mlm side couple, no girl hate since I’ve had enough of that, high school setting, slowburn, mutual pining
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just-dreaming-about · 4 years
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Harry Potter x Reader - Soulmate Au
I wasn't sure I would write another soulmate au but I was in a fluff mood today and I want to share it with someone. Enjoy!
(Gift not mine)
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Zoe Tonks. Actually, Zoe Black but no one could know this except for her family. Andromeda and Ted Tonks adopted her when her mother couldn't bear the fact that all her world were ending in front of her and she had to carry a baby girl all alone. She was just a baby and she was left at the front door of the Tonks. Nymphadora was just a seven years girl who thought it was the little sister she always asked her parents for. Her life was full of love despite the fact that her mother was dead and her father in Azkaban.
When Zoe reached Hogwarts she never thought that Harry Potter would become her best friend and both of them with a guy named Ron Weasley and a girl named Hermione Granger would live the most amazing adventures in their students years for the heart attacks from Andromeda and Tedd and the proud of Nymphadora.
Her third year were the worst, she thought; her friends discovered that her father was Sirius Black and at the beginning they thought he wanted to kill Harry so their friendship was so fragile during those months... But all ended well, Harry found a father figure on Sirius and Zoe actually meet her real father and for a while it was like a dream. Two perfects years exactly. Because her father died at her fifth year in Hogwarts and was so painful and heartbroken for her that no one could comfort her, even Nymphadora with her foolishness or Andromeda with her kindness or Ted who was her father figure.
Was Harry, her best friend, who helped her because he knew the pain she was feeling because he was feeling almost the same pain. They helped each other to health. It was slowly but they were working on it. Together. Sirius would like that.
And that's how they reached Harry's sixteenth birthday. The both of them were healing from Sirius death but their friends prepared a little birthday party for Harry so they'll cheer up a bit, and they actually enjoyed it. Hermione and Ron didn't argued like always, Fred and George prepared fireworks while Ginny made a little quidditch competition, Mr. Weasley came with a muggle board game that only Hermione and Harry understood and Mrs. Weasley cooked a delicious cake for Harry.
At the end of the day, all of them enjoyed the party and went to sleep happy but Zoe was worried.
It was well known that when you reached sixteen you'll know who is the person you're meant to. And she was secretly dying to know who was that person for Harry.
All those years of friendship, the problems they solved together, all the adventures and the battles, their fights with each other and their reconciliations, the subtle displays of affection that began to touch the intimate, the jokes and the subtle flirt... They were best friends and she was totally fine just being that for him but seeing him with Cho Chang in that stupid yule ball made her feel uncomfortable and when at first she asked at her father about it he just laugh at her and tousled her hair lovingly without answering her questions. And Nymphadora wasn't helpful either. But when she asked it to Hermione and Ginny the both of them reacted enthusiastically and answered that she was in love with Harry. She denied it of course, he was her best friend, it was just weird thinking of him like that but the time passed and she founded herself thinking about him like that more often and it stopped being a weird thing to become something natural; Harry was there for here whenever she needed him, he always worried about her feelings and would defend her from Malfoy if he mess with her. Also, he was looking for her when the Quidditch field filled with students celebrating the victory of Gryffindor to hug her and celebrate together, he always listened to her very carefully because he cared about her opinion and the ideas she had, he cared to remember her favorite sweets to buy her a few at Honeydukes and they visit Zonko together. She lovingly kept the memories of those lazy winter afternoons in the Gryffindor common room with Harry asleep leaning on her shoulder as they tried to do homework and she convincing Hermione to let him sleep a little longer... She was starting to think that Harry felt the same way about her but she wasn't sure and that was terrifying her as Harry's birthday approached.
Now at Ginny's room, listening the girls sleeping and moving in theirs beds, she was so scared about what she will found the next morning... Somewhere in Harry's body a name would appear. Her head hurts so much at this moment and the hot night didn't make it better. She got out of bed and sneaked out of the room to go downstairs looking in the dark for the kitchen to drink some water. It was refreshing but her fears were still there and she looked out the window to accidentally find a lonely Harry walking in circles at the garden running his hands through his hair like he's arguing with himself. She wondered if the name had already appeared and if that was what worried him... She immediately ran to the stairs, ready to go back to bed and pretend she hadn't seen him, but when she set foot on the first step, she thought better of it. Harry had always been there for her and she for him: they had helped each other when they each found a crush, even though she was uncomfortable when it was Harry's turn. What kind of friend would she be now if she left him alone at one of the most important moments in the life of a magician? She would like him to help her with her soulmate... Even if her soulmate wasn't Harry...
She took a deep breath.
This could break her heart but Harry was worth the risk. Because he was Harry, her Harry, and she was sure that no matter what happened that night he would still be her best friend.
When she reached the door, Harry had now sat on the porch. His black tousled hair, his stiff shoulders, the shirt too big for him and his hands clasped above his knees... She couldn't see the expression from where she was behind the door and she was very afraid to open that door but she did. She had spent many years at Harry's side to worry about her own appearance in this night talks, her hair was also messy and she surely had a horrible face for not slept well, her own old pajamas consisted of simple pants and a Chudley Cannons T-shirt that Ginny had lent her. Harry didn't said nothing when she sat at his side but she thought that he tensed up a little at her presence. That was new. The both of them were comfortable with the other presence. But she didn't said nothing too, she wait patiently.
-You should be sleeping -he said without looking at her.
-It's hot -she answered without looking at him either.
He nodded and removed on his sit, he was so uncomfortable right now and she was willing to know why. Didn't he trust her anymore? That thought hurt her heart but she didn't show it.
-What are you doing here? -she asked now.
For some reason looking at each other was prohibited right now but she wanted to look at him and say to him that she still wants to be his friend no matter what. But she didn't. She wait for him to talk about what happened because Harry never pressed her to talk to him, he always made her sure that he was right here for her and she wanted to do the same for him.
-I... -he coughed- Um... I can't sleep -he answered but that wasn't the answer she was looking for.
-Me neither -she smiled still looking at the Weasley's garden- Nightmares? -she asked carefully because that was an option, his nightmares with Voldemort were starting to be recurrent.
-No, not today -he shook his head, looking at the ground suddenly shy with Zoe's closeness.
What was happening to him? He was always so comfortable around her and now... Just for this stupid soulmate thing. He wishes things were easy again like when they were eleven and they were worried about the philosopher's stone or that chambers of secret thing... Merlin, even rescue Sirius or the Triwizard Tournament were more easy than this. Because the adventure, the fear, the adrenaline, the action was way more easy that feelings. Feelings were not his forte, it was Zoe but he can't ask her now even if she was sitting next to him.
He always thought about Zoe like a little sister not only because she was two months younger than him but because they have grown together helping the other in the way. She was so cheerful and stubborn and reckless and she always put her heart into everything she did that he feared that someday she wouldn't have enough for herself... At some point in his life she became an important part of his everyday in a different way as Ron and Hermione were but he couldn't said what kind of different because the feeling of her at his side was just right. Cho Chang didn't feel right, she felt new and exciting and disappointing at the end... But she... She was much more scary than anything he had ever done in his life. It was a different kind of fear than the one he felt when facing Voldemort; at the end of that she ran to hug him trembling from the fear she had felt for him. Now he didn't know if she would hug him again.
Because she was two months younger.
She didn't know who her soulmate is.
And her name was written in his chest.
Zoe Black-Tonks.
Even if she was his soulmate there was a possibility that he wasn't her soulmate. And he couldn't live without her at his side if he show her the name and two months later she woke up with another name on her body.
-What are you thinking about? -she looked at him with her innocent smile and those eyes full of love.
Oh yes, he knew how to differentiate the different looks from her. Just a glance into her eyes and he knew if she was angry or hiding something. And right now she was showing him how much she cared about him and she wanted him to be happy and he didn't know how that look that always calmed him was crushing his heart now.
-Nothing -he lied because he was a coward- Just how lucky I am for having a friend like you.
She smiled embarrassed and looked back at the front but he kept looking at her smiling fondly and making her blush, he thought she blushed for the compliment but little does he know that she blushed at his smile that stole her heart again. Her brown straight hair was as messy as him, her grey eyes shining and she was keeping a smile. He looked at the front too, losing his smile and feeling that nervousness again. This feelings thing was driving him crazy.
-If I am that amazing friend you said... -she started in a smug tone before looking seriously at him- you would know you can tell me anything.
-But I know that -he quickly answered without doubt, turning to look at her frowning and then he took her hand- Zoey, you are the person I trust the most in the world. Don't doubt about that.
She looked at their hands and back at him in a blink, determination in her eyes but there was something else he can't define. Since when he can't read her?
-So why don't you tell me what worries you?-in her voice she showed some of the fear she felt but she hoped Harry didn't notice.
It took him a few seconds to respond but he didn't release her hand when he did.
-I think... I need a moment to understand this first -he said sincerely because he had always been honest with her and he would not stop being it now, it would not be fair.
She remained silence for a moment, she thought about it looking at their hands and then she smiled. He was still her Harry.
-I'm here -she said smiling confident now.
-I know -he smiled fondly- You're always here.
-Don't forget about it -she threatened without losing her smile and he thought she was so incredible that he was really lucky for having her.
-Believe me, I wouldn't.
She got closer to him because her place wasn't away from him, her place was right next to him. She kissed his cheek and rest her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her head. They did this a lot of times since they were kids but recently he started to feel like this was just something special they had. Because he can hug Hermione too but it wasn't the same. His heart was not beating the same way.
They stayed like this a while: she closed her eyes and he caressed her arm, his fingers moving up and down making her goose bumps. At some point she looked for his other hand and he gives it to her smiling. With her like this he didn't feared anything. Or almost.
He was starting to feel that nervousness again.
-There's a name -he said breaking the silence and stopping the caresses.
-I know -she answered without opening her eyes- You just turned sixteen in front of me.
She wishes he wouldn't spoke at this moment. It was their moment. She was perfectly fine feeling him at her side and now her head was a mess again.
-It's a nice one? -she asked anyway because she was her best friend first.
-The most beautiful I've never seen -he answered without thinking and he felt like a fool immediately.
She also felt like a fool for enjoyed his caresses when he already had a soulmate. And from the way he spoken, he already know who is and he was delightful with that. She never heard him talking like that before with anyone.
-You're lucky then -she removed her head from his shoulder but did not find the strength to remove his arm from her shoulders- It could be a weird one and you would have to walk around with that in your body.
He laugh at her joke but she didn't. She was preparing herself for this and psyching up not to cry. It wasn't fair if she started to cry in front of him at the most important moment in his life.
-Yes, I'm lucky... -he was thinking how to said this- It's in a discreet place too...
-Oh my god, it's in your ass! -she looked at him so surprised and they remained silent for a few seconds.
And then they started laughing so hard that he didn't see the tear that escaped from Zoe's eye. She took the opportunity to get away a little, just so that he did not suspect, and looked at him while he was still laughing. And when he looked back at her with his fondly smile she blushed at the overwhelming feeling that surrounded her. Merlin, she was so in love with him.
- I love you -he whispered without thinking.
The both of them were surprised about this words.
He didn't want to say it like that! He was a stupid who didn't know how to keep his mouth shut! Now she would said she think of him like a brother or would evade this saying that they should wait 'till her birthday to know if he's her soulmate and then he would lose her even like a friend.
Meanwhile, she went blank. What did he just said? He said what she think he said? But what with the name!? He said it like a friend? You can love your friends, it's a kind of love, didn't it? Did he mean that kind of love? But he whispered like he really mean...
Neither of them said anything for a while. He was so feared right now and she was so confused at the time... But she thought it was her turn to talk even if she didn't want to.
-Love like friends? -she asked slowly, scared, caring not to have any hope from this, but then she can't stop talking because of the nervousness- Because you can love a friend, that's not weird, and we're like brothers, we have grown together, it's natural to love each other like brothers do even if were not really brothers but it feels like that, right? Do you remember when...
-It's not that kind of love, Zoey -he interrupted her and she shut up immediately looking at him with a look that he never seen on her and that took away all his confidence but he needed to say it now- It's... Like a soulmate kind of love... It's that... ok for you?
She thought she was dreaming, many feelings filling her at the same time and making her cry because she can't contain so much emotions on her chest. Harry started to panic at this point because he made her cry and didn't know how to calm her but she did it for him. She hugged him so tight but this was a different hug: her arms at his neck and his hands at her waist, an intimate feeling surrounding them.
-That's perfect for me -she answered whispering and he shuddered at her breath at his ear.
He was feeling as happy as her at this moment until a thought crossed his mind.
-But, Zoey, it's not your birthday. What if I'm not your soulmate?
They didn't break the hug, in fact he hugged her more because he didn't want let her go. And she solved all his doubts. With a kiss. A lovely, clumsy, inexperienced, wet by her tears, long awaited kiss. One of her hands through his hair, the other on his cheek; one of his hands on her waist, the other stroking her cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb, always taking care of her. When they needed air, they looked at each other smiling.
-You're my soulmate, Harry -she said that with so much confidence that he couldn't not believe her when she looked at him with those eyes full of love.
Damn, he was so in love with her.
-And you're perfect.
She blushed abruptly but didn't look away. He moved to make room for Zoe on the step below him so that she settled between his legs and he could hug her. They sat there, sometimes talking about things like the new course or just enjoying each other's company. They agreed that they would not say anything to the others until Zoe's birthday where she would prove that he was her soulmate. He preferred it that way, for a time this that was beginning to grow between them would be theirs alone and he did not want to share it with anyone. He wanted to be selfish for once in life. She saw it as a time to get to know each other in a different way than they had done until now, a more intimate way. He was still a little worried about what Zoe's birthday would bring but she had no doubts.
Sometimes, you just need to look at it to know that the person next to you it's your soulmate.
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evelyn-foresis · 3 years
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Second edition redraw of Artemis in fairy robes, with her familiar Aries. Let it be known, red is my least favourite colour.
Tale 11: Artemis Craweleoth & The Griminthrope (chapter 1 - Child of Autumn 1/5) part 3. Stories of Fey
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Artemis was the third Daughter of King Mage Morgan Cynedom, and his wife, magician Emilia Loket.  As prophesized, Artemis was born on the autumnal equinox, in the third quadrant of the table of fours, red; and was thus the child of fall. Each of the four siblings belonged to one quadrant; which had a one season, element, colour, direction, metal, and two to three beast kingdoms of fey. Each of Morgan’s children were to be named by a beat king whose fey kingdom was in the child’s quadrant. For Artemis, this meant one of the two Beast Kings of the red quadrant, had the privilege of naming her. The Beast King’s, being of fey, found names important, and considered Morgan their brother; It was a high honor the ten fey kings quarreled about. In the end, The Raven King had won the bid of bestowing a name on Artemis, and houseing her in the raven magic house of Craweleoth, or Ravensong.
Magic House aside, Artemis was like a bird in many ways. Loud and feisty, a trickster, hung around in trees; and had a lovely singing voice she paired with the oddest dances. Her Fairy robes were red and ebony like fall, and collared with black feathers. A sheer skirt clipped about her waist was red, and embroidered in the pattern of a phoenix’s tail. Artemis had tall boots and gloves with coins sewed along them, to match her collar and belt. She could blend into a maple orchard in October. These fairy robes were a gift from the Fairy King; who makes them to protect beloved mages safe from spell or sword. Keeping these human guardians of magic and fey, clean and safe. To give each of Morgan’s children lovely magic clothes to match their naming, gave her great joy. On most days, she avoided her fairy robes, and Artemis wore turtle neck sweaters, leggings, boots, and denim jumper or overalls on top.
Before the end of magic school, there was no spell Artemis couldn’t cast with music, or balled she could not perform. The trick was finding her in the thick of her father’s magic forest. When it came to hiding in the trees, she blended in unlike her siblings; Her hair was bronze like her fathers, and was medium length and wavy, tied in a knot. She moved about so much; Emilia didn’t want her hair catching on things. She knew a thing or two about long hair inconvenience. To match the wood of the trees, Artemis also had her mother’s ebony eyes. Even after she had gone dark in school, the magic moving through her didn’t changed her colours like other magic users. Her hair simply went a little redder. As a rebellious untamable problem, Artemis was short, freckled, sturdy, and fearless; and as ethereal as her siblings, but in an eerie sort of way, instead a radiant sort.
As a gifted mage, more attached to magic then reality, she picked up skills quickly. One of Artemis’s first spells was summoning her familiar Aries, a black raven she adorned with beading; and whom which Artemis flew on occasion.  She learned this from her father, who whose familiar Icarus, was a golden eagle he liked to ride as well. Sometimes they would play sky tag, infuriating Emilia; It terrified Artemis’s mother. As far as they were concerned, who needs, trains, bikes or vehicles, when you have a trusty wingman. Artemis always had the intent of staying where she was born, on Tiberius Gate, with her father and family forever. She loved specking with the fey children of the raven and tree kingdoms; serenading the gate’s vast forest, with ballads written by mages long ago. Morgan and his daughter would sing to the gate together; He had taught Artemis more songs from his library of mages, then any of the charmers she would meet in magic school. When she left the gate for school, or ran errands, Artemis would sing to the fey in town; as the magic forest of her father’s gate extended down into the small town of Pepperidge. Even when her siblings grew up and left, Artemis was reliably there to charm them.
Artemis went through magic school, made no friends, and preferred the company of her familiar and family. Not to different form her brother and sisters; which was something their parents didn’t prepare for, though should have expected. They were a loving magic family every day, when personalities didn’t flare up. The problem with Morgan and Emilia’s overly enchanted brood, was they were neglecting other aspects of life, for magic. They only wanted to pry their children away from mythical symbiosis, to make them functional members of society. However, if their father and his friends weren’t evidence enough; Stopping this behavior in humans born with a greater affinity for magic, is fundamentally pointless. But at least everyone was happy. Including every fey. One big happy magic forest school village. With lots of blooming little magic hermits.
That said, perhaps someone might now prefer not to go looking for her at all; As a bird on a branch, seen only for a second, Artemis was better left to her own unorthodox ways. To anyone who knew Artemis, her presence was intrusive, unrelenting, and loud. In spite of her energetic antics, Artemis was still a good sister. For each prank Artemis pulled, she gave a hand when her family needed it. Artemis was very handy and clever; fixing plumbing and fur nature without duct tape, in new and exciting ways. Artemis stood a proud cheerer of her siblings, and magic home. She was not a paladin, but it is said that mage charmers are more powerful; A charmer can manipulate anything they want for miles round, without lifting a finger.
Artemis’s unsettling birdlike mannerisms, and personality, turned many people away before they had the chance to bully her. It followed her even after graduation. Her attraction to shinny things alone was good material for immature adolescents, or adults. But she was Teflon against any insult; Artemis’s secret was not caring. Aside from her wild spirit, Artemis passed through events in her life like a bird migrating on a mystical journey; undeterred from a desired destination. From up high, and far away, Artemis could see everything, everyone, and do as she please.  Artemis was light, untouchable, and lively; and she knew it.
After graduation, Artemis remained on Tiberius Gate, in Pepperidge, with her parents and community. Mockery would not pry her from her dream of quaint homey living. Even when Morgan and Emilia’s youngest, her little brother Patrick, moved out to be a paladin, Artemis still stayed. Her parents were happy to have her; at least one child to wake up too every day, when all others flew the coop. No longer a child, Artemis was still singing and flying around town, helping any fey or people who wanted it, for shinny coins. She made a meaningful living off small jobs. Artemis spent her time singing, beading, dancing, and showing around tourists. Artemis came home each night, after a day’s adventure, to help her parents make dinner and care for they fey on Tiberius Gate itself. She loved her simple life. A meaningful life.
One day, while Morgan was off at the academy substituting, he got an urgent call. But he wasn’t at home to answer. It was from a radio phone in the Westlands; Emilia answered it in the kitchen. She didn’t want to worry Morgan, so Emilia got Bandrel, their hearths fire wilding, to hold the call. He smiled, cooled down, crawled out of the tower’s oven furnace, which was his duty, and held the phone. Fairies never get to hold phones; he felt more special than normal.
“Bandie, would you take this? I don’t care if it gets bit cold in the tower from the fall air. It’s Patrick. Have a nice talk with him while I find Artemis. I don’t want to make my husband an anxious mess while he’s at work…” Emilia said casually to the small fairy boy. Bandril nodded excitedly and took the phone in his little hands.
“Hello, Tiberius Gate, Bandie speaking,” Bandrel said smiling. He turned to Emilia, and covered the talking piece. “I always wanted to say that!” he wiggled. Emilia smiled and left the main tower, to whistle into the forest. Not any whistle, as some whistles summoned fey; This was a sound to summon her daughter. Emilia made a perfectly medium range whistle, that tapered like a bird’s song, into the thick old magic growth. The tree’s whispered, as Emilia stared into the woods waiting for Artemis to whistle back. Artemis was in a tree right above her.
“What’s up mom.” Artemis said, hopping down and scaring Emilia. She jumped back, scared for her life. She hated when her family snuck up on her like that. Emilia could bend reality just by believing, but the magic here seemed to catch her off guard. She never got used to it; her children and husband were too stealthy.
“After all these years, you’d think I’d be used to it. Your twenty now. Am I getting old…” Emilia gasped. “Come inside, and sit by Bandrel’s warm fire with me; Your little brother called form Grand Snow. He wanted to speak with your father, but you’re the next best mage.” Emilia said rapping her arm around her daughter.
“Patrick only left six months ago…” Artemis said under her breath. “He didn’t even get an apprenticeship, yet got a post. Of course, it’s Patrick calling. Always Patrick!” She scoffed. Emilia elbowed Artemis in the side. A young lady should not throw her sibling under the bus. That is what older ladies do. Artemis had a little middle child syndrome. Emilia always wanted a boy, unlike their father Morgan, who was a grade-A girl dad. A father’s love evened things out, adding plausible deniability to parental favouratism. Children can smell inequality like sulfur. Every time mother mentioned Artemis’s little brother’s name, she winced.
Once inside, Emilia and Artemis headed to the kitchen. Artemis arranged the fire wood into a cradle inside the large hearth, for Bandrel to sleep in. Then Bandrel handed her the phone, and crawled back in the oven. Emilia set up some chairs and mugs of tea, for some cuddling by the warmth of Fairy fire. Emilia knew Artemis well enough to know providing some reassuring love would calm her down; Artemis needed to be calm to talk on a phone; and play nice to her little brother. Artemis plopped down in a chair, kicked back, and answered the phone. The long-distance charges must have been astounding.
“Hey Patrick, dad gone, mom miss you, me here. What’s up bro. What can I do you for?” Artemis said, sipping from her mug of tea. She spat up a little; it wasn’t steeped yet.
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