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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

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Spellbinding (Chapter Fifteen)

Summary: (Y/N)’s first solo mission as the Cosmic Sorceress takes an unexpected turn, and she begins to notice some worrying developments with her magic.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen January 2nd, 2016 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“I’m really sorry about your nose, Sam…I-I could try healing it for you? I’m not very good at it, but I might be able to stop the bleeding just a little…”

Although partially obscured by a handful of blood-soaked tissues, (Y/N) could just make out a glimmer of amusement in the man’s dark brown eyes as he shook his head. “Nope, I’m good, I think I prefer the old-fashioned way of fixin’ broken noses. And stop apologizin’ so much, (Y/L/N), you landed that punch fair and square!”

“Birdbrain’s right, (Y/N), he walked right into it.” Natasha smirked and handed Sam another tissue. “You two should know that I had to kick Barnes out of the training room ‘cause he was laughing so hard.” Sam ambled away towards the restroom, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath as he went. “Your hand-to-hand combat has definitely improved over the past two months; tomorrow, I’ll get Steve or Thor to spar with you so we can really see how far you’ve come.”

“Mm-hmm.” (Y/N) had only been half-listening, as her attention was focused on her bandage-wrapped right hand; she could still recall the rush of fury swirling inside of her after ducking Sam’s attack and the unmistakable feeling of satisfaction when the tell-tale sound of a nose breaking filled the training room. Replaying the incident in her mind caused (Y/N)’s stomach to churn uncomfortably; she’d never been entirely comfortable with violence yet she understood that its necessity came with being an Avenger, but what she’d felt earlier had been something else entirely. It reminded her all too much of the frequent nightmares she’d been having about her parents and the destruction they’d caused in their lifetime, and that realization shook her to the core.

“You okay?” Natasha’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “That was a pretty hard punch, are you sure your hand’s not hurt? We could get Bruce to-”

“I’m fine, Nat, it’s only a little sore; I’ll be sure to ice it later.” (Y/N) gave her a quick smile and began unwrapping the bandages from her hands. “So, have you gotten a chance to begin listening to Good Omens yet?”

That seemed to do the trick. Unbeknownst to most of the team, Natasha Romanoff was secretly turning into quite the bookworm and would regularly consult (Y/N) for reading recommendations; she preferred to listen to audio books as opposed to reading print, which was why their teammates were unaware of her new passion, and she’d even taken to listening to them while she trained. (Y/N) had quickly learned that books were currently the only thing that could distract the usually observant spy, and this time she was not disappointed. “Yeah, I’ve gotten through the first three chapters already and I really like it so far. I-”

“Miss (Y/L/N),” The robotic voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. filled the training room. “You have been assigned to a mission by Director Fury.”

“What’s the mission, J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

“The apprehension of one Antoine Garmiena, a known Hydra enforcer. Our agents have tracked his whereabouts to a hotel in Vancouver, Canada and Director Fury has assigned only you the task of arresting him. The Quinjet will depart in one hour and when you land, you will be met by a CIA task force. Do you accept the mission?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, I do. Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S.” Turning back to Natasha, she gave her friend a smile. “Well, I’d better go and get ready. Thank you for such a…productive training session, and I’ll see you later!”

After stopping by her room to take a quick shower and change into her uniform, (Y/N) boarded the Quinjet by herself and was on route to Canada; from her seat near the back of the jet, she was finally able to absorb the fact that this was her first solo mission as an Avenger. To her surprise, the thought of apprehending Garmiena alone didn’t fill her with anxiety; if anything, she was glad for the opportunity to do something on her own after working with the others for so long. If Director Fury and Steve think I’m up to this than I know that I am, she thought with a smile as she continued flicking through the file on Garmiena that Director Fury had given her.

The buzzing of her phone on the seat beside her broke her concentration but when she caught sight of the caller I.D. that popped up, she immediately set the file down to answer it. “Hey, you. Isn’t it almost midnight in Oslo right now?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but since Barton has insisted on watching television all night I figured that calling you would be the best alternative to committing homicide.”

Through her phone’s speaker, (Y/N) heard Clint’s faint retort and couldn’t help but smile through her light scolding. “Loki, that’s no way to start a new year off.”

“That’s easy for you to say, (Y/N), you haven’t had to endure an entire evening of so-called ‘reality television.’ I swear by the Norns, if I hear one more obscenely wealthy housewife complain about something idiotically trivial…”

“Well, it’s a good thing that you called me because I was about to call and tell you I’ve been assigned a mission. I just left for Vancouver and should be back later tonight…and Fury only assigned me to this one.”

“Your first solo mission, then! Congratulations, darling, you’re going to do wonderfully!”

“Thank you, sweetheart, I’ll try to call you once the mission’s complete but I might be stuck in a meeting based on how well I do. And no pranking Clint while you two are on your mission, all right?”

“Fine, but if he continues to annoy me I’ll be forced to retaliate once we return.”

After wishing each other luck and exchanging their love, (Y/N) ended the call and set her phone down; she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to help focus her magic. Through trial and error, she and Loki had discovered that Midgardian meditation practices helped with controlling and centering her magic before missions. Object and intent, she silently chanted, object and intent; the palms of her hands tingled with familiar energy and she peeked through her eyelashes just as her vivid purple magic began to swirl around her hands. Closing her eyes again, she took another deep breath and exhaled as the all-too familiar tugging sensation in the pit of her stomach intensified; the air around her was practically humming with energy and as she worked to control it, she could almost feel-

“We will be landing shortly, Miss (Y/L/N).” J.A.R.V.I.S. announced; startled, (Y/N)’s eyes flew open and the moment her concentration faltered, she suddenly dropped back down into her seat and winced in pain. “I’m terribly sorry, but I could find no other way of informing you of the Quinjet’s status.”

“That’s okay, J.A.R.V.I.S., I didn’t even realize that I’d been…that I’d been levitating.” She carefully got to her feet and adjusted her long black and purple leather coat before fastening her sword to her belt, feeling a little unnerved by her meditation session. “Is the CIA task force prepped and waiting?”

“Yes, Agent Ross just arrived at the helipad and is awaiting your arrival.”

(Y/N) thanked the Artificial Intelligence and continued to ready herself for the mission; she double-checked that her comm link was operational and pressed the button on her glasses to mask their presence, finishing up her tasks just as the Quinjet began its descent. Once it landed smoothly on the helipad, the ramp automatically lowered and she walked out into the frosty air.

“Just once, I’d like it if these Hydra thugs would pick someplace warmer to hide out in. Tahiti would be a nice change of pace, or maybe even Fiji.” Agent Ross quipped, his teeth chattering slightly as he withdrew a gloved hand from his CIA parka’s pocket to shake hers. “It’s good to see you again; I’m glad Fury assigned you to this one ‘cause we’re gonna need more brain and less brawn to finally apprehend this slippery guy.”

Smiling, (Y/N) walked alongside the CIA agent as they entered the warmth-filled building and made their way down a long stretch of hallway. “It’s good to see you too, Agent Ross. How long has Garmiena evaded arrest so far?”

“Over one and a half years, since right before the launching of Project Insight. He was on the CIA’s radar before he was outed as a Hydra operative but since the fall of the original S.H.I.E.L.D., he’s been on the run and almost impossible to track.”

Before she could ask another question, they were escorted into a room by an armed CIA agent and came face-to-face with a group of agents seated around a table. Clad in their tactical gear, the agents perked up when they recognized who she was and began whispering to one another, much to her embarrassment. It had been difficult for her to grow used to being in the public eye, but (Y/N) had finally reached a point in her Avenger career where being recognized in public only made her feel slightly bashful and not on the verge of a full-on panic attack.

As if sensing her discomfort, Agent Ross stepped forward and cleared his throat to grab their attention. “As you’ve already noticed, the Cosmic Sorceress will be working alongside us on this operation. If that’s something you can’t handle in a professional manner, then I have a pile of coloring books and some crayons in my office that you can play with while the adults go to work. Is that clear?” The agents nodded and Agent Ross smiled. “Great. Now, let’s get to work.”

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(Y/N) blocked bullet after bullet fired at her but was forced to throw herself behind a nearby stone wall for cover when she caught sight of the flamethrower being aimed in her direction; clutching the stitch in her side, she yelled into her comm link, “Did you forget to mention that Garmiena’s an enhanced, Agent Ross, or did you just want to surprise me?!”

“This is the first the CIA’s hearing about it; believe me, I’m just as pissed about this as you are! There’s too many of him, I’m calling in backup from Fury-”

“No! By the time they arrive he’ll have already escaped or injured civilians; we just need to think of a new plan.” (Y/N) cautiously rose to take a quick look around the stone wall. The hotel was completely surrounded by CIA agents but they too were taking cover as a dozen versions of Garmiena stood on the roof and fired guns and other weapons at anything that dared move. Out of all the enhanced superpowers I’ve seen as an Avenger, self-duplicating’s got to be the weirdest one yet, she thought to herself. Her eyes landed on the building beside the hotel and after realizing that they were fairly close in height, a plan began to form in her mind. “All right, I think I’ve got something but it might not work…”

“Anything’s better than nothing; what’ve you got?”

Once she and Agent Ross finalized their new plan, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and waited for the signal; sure enough, moments later the agents began returning fire on the south side of the building, giving (Y/N) enough time to sprint out from behind her hiding spot and to the building adjacent to the hotel. Without stopping to question if her plan would even work, (Y/N) summoned her purple-hued magic into her palms and aimed them towards the ground; the overwhelming force of her magic propelled her into the sky at dizzying speed, and in the blink of an eye she had landed on the roof of the building.

Not stopping to admire her newfound magical skill, she ran at top speed towards the rooftop of the hotel and jumped, landing on the roof and somersaulting onto her feet. The duplicates of Garmiena all turned towards her with their weapons at the ready, but (Y/N) thrust her hands outwards and clenched them into fists, watching as each weapon was ripped from their grasp and thrown off the roof. She then raised her arms and forced them downwards, which caused the duplicates to be thrown high into the air before landing harshly onto the roof; one by one, the duplicates blinked into nothingness until just one man was left groaning in pain as he struggled to stand.

(Y/N) strode over to Garmiena, drawing her sword and holding it against his throat to halt his movement. “Antoine Garmiena, on behalf of the Avengers I’m placing you under arrest.” She held her free hand up to her ear and spoke into her comm link. “Target apprehended, requesting assistance on the northeast side of the rooftop.”

“Great work, Cosmic Sorceress; the tac team’s on their way up.”

Garmiena’s brow rose in surprise, and it was then that (Y/N) was struck by the unusual brightness of his hazel eyes. “So, you’re the one they call the Cosmic Sorceress. Tell me, did Stark and Banner create you in that laboratory of theirs or were you blessed by the gods as I was?”

“Apparently you’re just as delusional as they warned me you were. You didn’t receive your enhancement from the gods, you’re one of the countless people who allowed Hydra to experiment on them and in return were used to carry out their bidding. If you’re trying to look for similarities between us, then I suggest you stop now because we have nothing in common.”

He chuckled to himself. “Now who’s the delusional one? The only thing keeping us from being alike is your cowardice.” (Y/N) frowned in confusion and he took the opportunity to continue uninterrupted, his eyes strangely unfocused as he spoke. “I’ve embraced my true identity while you have hidden yours away. You have the chance to fulfill your mother’s quest to rule, yet you squander your power by remaining with the Avengers, Earth’s So-Called Mightiest Heroes.”

(Y/N)’s blood ran cold at his words; clenching her jaw, she pressed her sword into the skin of his neck as her vision began to redden. “What did you just say?”

“Yes, you and I are similar, but I would say you and your mother are more alike than you realize. The fiery tempers, the star-crossed loves and most importantly, the ambition. Deep down, you know that you don’t belong with your pitiful pretend family and once you let them go…” Garmiena grinned widely and although she registered that something was off about the situation, it didn’t do a single thing to quell her growing fury. “You’ll be free to unleash your true potential.”

With a sharp flick of her wrist, (Y/N)’s purple magic swirled tightly around his body and she watched as the smug expression on his face slowly morphed into a grimace of pain. Something deep inside of (Y/N) warned her to stop but she purposefully ignored it, clenching her fingers into a fist to tighten her darkening magic’s hold…

“Stand down, we’ll take him from here.”

Startled, (Y/N) released her hold on Garmiena and looked with widened eyes as he gasped for air and her now scarlet-colored magic faded into nothing. She stumbled backwards and out of the way of the tac team as they hauled Garmiena to his feet and dragged him towards the rooftop doorway; out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Agent Ross approaching. “The CIA owes you a debt of gratitude; zero civilian casualties and minimal property damage is what we like to see in an Avenger.” He glanced over his shoulder and turned back to her with a low whisper. “So, um, about your magic…how does it work? The color, I mean; did you choose purple, or is the color tied to your emotions, like a mood ring or something?”

Tearing her eyes away from the doorway Garmiena disappeared through, (Y/N) met Agent Ross’ curious eyes with a forced smile. “You know, Agent Ross…I’m not really sure.”

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It was well past midnight by the time (Y/N) was able to go back to her suite in the Avengers Tower. She sat through a CIA mission debriefing in Vancouver before boarding the Quinjet and heading back home to New York, only to attend another debriefing in Director Fury’s office. During that time, she hadn’t had the opportunity to reflect on what had occurred on the hotel rooftop but now that she was alone with her thoughts, it was all she could focus on; she spent the entire afternoon and evening learning about Garmiena’s background, and there was absolutely nothing in the CIA or the Avenger’s dossiers that indicated that the Hydra enforcer had any connection to Alfheim. She’d even considered consulting the book King Tarian had gifted her but had quickly changed her mind; the one and only time she’d tried reading it had triggered horrific nightmares that had yet to dissipate, so she kept the book tucked away in her closet, out of sight and out of mind.

But what had worried her the most wasn’t just that Garmiena somehow possessed knowledge of her family, it was that for a split-second, she had lost control of her magic and had done very little to try and regain it. She’d wanted to hurt him, wanted him to feel pain for what he’d said and done, and if the CIA tac team hadn’t shown up when they did…she wasn’t sure what would’ve happened. First Tony and Loki, and now Garmiena, she thought to herself as she unfastened her sword from her belt and set it down on her suite’s coffee table, how many more people am I going to needlessly hurt with my magic?

As quietly as she could, (Y/N) crept into the bedroom and glanced over to see Loki already fast asleep; he was stretched out on his back, the blankets pooling at his waist as his bare chest nearly glowed in the darkness, and his expression was peaceful as he slept. Seeing her boyfriend put her at ease, and after silently changing into her pajamas and going about her nighttime routine, she carefully got into bed beside him and made herself comfortable on her right side. She smiled softly when she felt Loki’s arm wrap around her waist and hold her against his chest as he nuzzled his face into her neck and let out a sleepy hum of contentment. “How’d your mission go, my love?”

“Wonderfully.” She lied, ignoring the pang of guilt brought on by her outright deceit. “What about yours?”

“I managed not to kill Barton, so I’d say it went well. Did Garmiena put up much of a fight?”

Instead of answering, (Y/N) smoothed down his sleep-rumpled hair with gentle fingers. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart, I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. Okay?”

“…Fair enough. G’night, darling.”

“Goodnight.”

Loki quickly fell back asleep, but (Y/N)’s restless mind refused to let her follow suit. She glanced over her shoulder at her boyfriend and after checking that he was indeed asleep, she held a hand out and only hesitated a moment before summoning her magic. To her immense relief, the magic swirling around her hand had returned to its usual purple hue; the longer she laid in bed staring at the tendrils of magic dancing across her palm, however, the more curious she grew. Agent Ross had innocently speculated that her magic’s color was tied to her emotions so to test the theory out, (Y/N) thought about Garmiena’s words and how they’d affected her on the rooftop; though it was difficult, she remembered the white-hot anger that had filled her as her magic tightened its hold around him and she squeezed her eyes closed, part of her too frightened to look.

Don’t be such a coward, (Y/N) scolded herself after several long moments; taking a steadying breath, she slowly opened her eyes. She had to stifle her horrified gasp behind her free hand as her widened eyes stared at the shocking swirls of scarlet magic dancing across her palm.

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A/N: Some more interesting developments! This is the end of the second chunk of this story, and I just wanted to let you all know that there won’t be a new chapter next week but instead the week after. It’s nothing serious, I just need the time to write some more and finish up a couple of my other fics. I’m sorry to make you guys wait a little longer for the next chapter, but I promise that I’ll be back here in two weeks with an update!

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Sixteen

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #natasha romanoff #black widow #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #clint barton #hawkeye #everett ross #nick fury #director fury #marvel cinematic universe

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tsundanire · 2 years

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Part 3

Hey all! Not that I think any of yall were expecting this to continue, but let me assure you. There’s more to come. I’m using this as a chance to give my brain little breaks from the larger pieces I’m working on. Anyhow, I would have had this up already but a weekend of birthday festivities plus some submissions that needed my attention took up my time. As usual, you can find links to the other posted parts below, as well as the actual piece below that [Part 1] [Part 2]

Draco didn’t think about what had happened for three full days. And, despite Potter’s initial promise to floo later, and talk about it, there had been nothing but radio silence.

Of course, Draco couldn’t exactly blame him. What they’d done was far from normal—even if one counted by the scale that didn’t include practically mortal enemies. But as it was, things were more than complicated. He’d gotten off to fucking Potter’s body replica, and apparently Potter had enjoyed the fucking just as much.

It took three days before Draco consulted the magically shifting schedule. Curiosity pinged at him regarding the shaded out days—which meant Potter was unavailable. But what did that really mean? Could Draco still use the toy? Or was he relegated to the days Potter was free?

The schedule was clear for most of the day, but that left a lot more questions in Draco’s mind. Did Potter just walk around his house, prepared to get fucked at any given notice? There was no way he could just stay in bed the whole day. Did he go out anywhere? Something hot unfurled inside Draco’s chest at the idea of Potter walking casually down Diagon Alley, waiting for the moment Draco chose to start playing.

Tightening against the confines of his trousers, Draco pressed a palm to his cock, easing some of the pressure with a heady sigh, as he considered the toy as it lay across a towel on his bed. It was just a toy—albeit an incredibly strange one, given it was molded from Potter’s bits.

Slipping the piece into his ear once again, Draco pressed a knee onto the mattress, and crawled his way closer to the toy. It was in a state of semi-arousal, as it had been since their previous encounter, making Draco wonder if that was just a feature of the toy, or whether that was Potter’s influence.

The first day he’d played with the toy, Draco had skipped past some of his favourite parts, just to work past the initial anxiety of whatever the hell it was they were doing. But kneeling on his elbows and knees in front of the toy, Draco could feel the saliva gathering in his mouth as he considered his options.

Parted lips leaned in closer, ghosting over the silicone tip that bobbed in a strangely life-like way. The ear-piece crackled to life, but the sounds on the other end were hard to pinpoint. Where was Potter?

“Nnhh. Shit, Malfoy. Are you—” The words were cut off with a sharp gasp as Draco slipped the head between his spit-coated lips. “Fucking hell, give me a second to at least get back to bed, or something.”

Snorting, Draco refocused his attention on the task at hand, taking more and more of the rapidly hardening cock into his mouth. When Potter was finally fully erect, Draco pulled off and smirked when he was rewarded with a mild whine.

“Where even are you, Potter?”

“Kitchen,” Harry panted. “Was making lunch.”

“Mm? Is that right? Perhaps you should just get back to that and let me have my fun.”

Draco was rewarded again with a heavy moan. The new knowledge that Potter might enjoy being bossed around a bit was filed away for later as he heard the sounds of chopping resume.

“There’s a good boy,” Draco added, grinning as Harry made a flustered noise that sounded like a garbled version of “fuck”.

#drarry #Drarry Drabble #Draco/Harry #drabble #hp drabbles #Part 3

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underthedekutree · 4 years

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Young Link might have PTSD - Part 2: Termina is NOT a Parallel World, Technically

This is a continuation of my last post so if you’re seeing this and haven’t read it, go here.

This is the part where I somewhat smoothly segue into Majora’s Mask. Link, lonely and filled with unprocessed trauma, leaves Hyrule in search of Navi. According to most sources (which take from Hyrule Historia probably? don’t quote me on it), Link falls down a hole into Termina, a parallel world to Hyrule, that contains many familiar looking denizens of Hyrule, but playing different roles. And well, if you probably guessed by the title, I have a rather different interpretation.

Okay, so in a nutshell my theory is that Termina is in fact all a dream, kind of like Koholint Island. Except the one dreaming up this world isn’t some deity like the Giants or Skull Kid or the Moon. It’s Link.

(big explainey hoo hah below)

Evidence 1: Link begins the game sleeping. Yes, I know literally every Zelda game begins this way and it’s a whole tradition thing. I am beginning with the weakest points first and working my way up to the strong ones. We’ll get there.

Evidence 2: The reuse of character and environment models from Ocarina of Time. The literal IRL reason for this is of course the game famously being given only one year of production time, which meant that the most practical method was to reuse as much material from MM’s predecessor as possible (eg. Romani Ranch sign is the Kakariko Village sign, and still says Kakariko Village on it). It seems like a rather offhand afterthought for Nintendo to chalk it all up to “oh its just a parallel world like Link to the Past or something. But think of it like this; when we dream, we often see familiar people from throughout our lives put in strange and unexpected situations, like that irritable old farmhand you hated so much is now a depressed circus master for some reason. Dreams don’t make sense. Things you know will mix with other strange inexplicable things, fleeting thoughts in your mind, all roughly tied together by whatever emotions you had been feeling when you went to bed. Malon is split into two people, Romani and Cremia, her older and younger self. This might reflect how Link feels about Malon, that she changed so much in those 7 years that she’s like a different person entirely, that it’s hard for him to process that they are the same, because the change was so shockingly sudden for him.

Evidence 3: Gorons in the snow, Gerudo by the sea. Yes, I know that sounds a lot like good evidence for a parallel world (that’s why the idea is widely accepted in the first place, it has merit), but it also works in as dream world evidence too. As a child, my family was obsessed with skiing. We would go to the same mountain every winter, and we would stay at the same lodge. It almost became like a second home for me. So much so, that one night I dreamed that my house had been replaced by the lodge, so it wasn’t on a snow-capped mountain, but in a bushy Australian suburb. Okay that kinda got off subject but I’m bad at conclusions so in summary Dreams Just Be Like That (tm). You get what I’m saying right? No? Sorry, let’s just move on.

Evidence 4: The Milk Bar. AKA my favourite location in the game! It’s often overlooked as the “haha funny they couldn’t put alcohol in kids game so its kiddy milk hee hee”, but it is actually a strong thematic pillar of Majora’s Mask. As I mentioned in Part 1, if you put a 9 year old in a 16 year old’s body and call him an adult before ripping that all away is probably going to leave the kid with an identity crisis. What is a mature place open at late hours when children are sleeping? A bar. What is a drink associated with the young, being produced for the purpose of helping children grow? Milk. No please don’t go I swear there’s more to this, stay with me. In order to gain access to the bar, Link must prove he is mature enough by wearing a mask, a disguise, like Adult Link is to Young Link. Being adult isn’t earned through years of natural living experience and mental development, it’s a thing you are given by adults to just BE when they deem you worthy, at least from how Link sees it. So that is the amalgamation of dream thoughts that is the Milk Bar. Is it mature? Is it childish? What is the line between the two? Is there one? It’s the culmination of his anxieties and confusions that he doesn’t know how to express. Another, smaller expression of this anxiety is the Clock Town Guards. When Link is a Deku, the guards say they don’t allow children outside the gates. When Link turns back however, the guard goes to stop him because he looks too young, but sees that he has a sword, and lets him pass. Why the sword? Well, in one way this is a callback to Kokiri Forest, where Mido doesn’t let Link see the Deku Tree until he has a sword. But also, what is the item that lets Link travel through time and become an adult in OOT? The Master Sword. Link seems to believe that adulthood is measured by the things you have, physical markers of maturity, which is how lots of children see adulthood. You’re an adult if you can drink, if you’re tall, if you’re married, if you have a house, a car etc. But in reality this isn’t how it works. Heck, I’m technically an adult but I sure as hell don’t feel like one, because I know I still have things to learn about responsibility, patience and all the other things, that can only come with time, which is the moral conclusion of OOT, but clearly Link missed the memo. Don’t get me wrong, there are some indicators to show he’s grown a bit. He can ride Epona, use the bow, do flips like some kind of acrobat etc. But those strange and confused feelings linger, and manifest in the young boy’s dreams.

Evidence 5: The four transformation masks. The four masks represent different aspects of Link’s self, and the way he grew and changed in OOT. Deku Scrub the Innocent, Goron the Confident, Zora the Mature and Fierce Deity the Hero. Link began only knowing the Kokiri Forest, and nothing of the world outside. As he set out on his journey, he grew more confident in his skills and defeated greater foes. When evil took over, he learned from his fatal mistake and worked to right it. And when it was finally time to face the greatest threat, he was ready, with all the heart pieces, bottles full of fairies, Biggoron Sword in hand. At that moment he struck the final blow he probably felt like the strong and unstoppable hero everyone in Hyrule told him he needed to be. And that feeling of pure uncompromising strength, with the whole world behind him, manifested in the Fierce Deity. Fierce Deity is much taller than Adult Link, and packs so much of a punch that he can beat Majora without batting an eye, like some overpowered Super Saiyan. It reminds me a lot of Undertale, with young Asriel becoming what he imagines to be an all-powerful godlike being, like something you’d see as a children’s drawing. Fierce Deity gives off those vibes, like “he has a HUGE SWORD that SHOOTS BEAMS OF LIGHT and he’s 8 FOOT TALL and CAN KILL ENEMIES IN A SINGLE BLOW!!” Before the final battle on the moon, when Majora gives you the mask, he childishly asks if you want to play a game of good guys and bad guys. And the good guy always wins, no matter what. Fierce Deity makes the final boss a cakewalk, but its supposed to.

Evidence 6: Anju and Kafei. Short one, because it falls a lot into everything else I’ve said regarding childhood vs adulthood. Kafei is effectively a switcheroo of what happened to Link in OOT. An adult shrunk back to childhood, uncomfortable in his new body and looking for a way to fix everything. He’s a reflection of how Link now kinda feels like an adult in a child’s body, because he had started to be used to being called an adult.

Evidence 7: The Moon. I haven’t super touched on the main meat of the game yet, so here it is. The moon and the 3 day mechanic is an allegory for constant mounting pressure, that builds and builds, never ceasing, because the world is in danger, and there’s only one person who has been chosen to save it. I’ve always been interested in the Chosen One narrative, and how different media explore the idea of the world’s very existence being pushed onto one person. How at the end of it all, they can never be the same again after all they’ve gone through. When you’re somehow expected to hold up the Moon itself single-handed, and your life and everything you care about suffers because you’re putting everyone else before yourself. That feeling of complete loneliness under a crushing weight, and although other characters may come to help you, in the end its still all down to you, and you never had a choice in any of it, as all the decisions were made by someone else. You must do what they tell you. Believe in yourself, believe...

Evidence 8: Skull Kid. The story goes that long ago in Termina, the Skull Kid and the Giants played together, until one day, the Giants left, leaving the Skull Kid alone and heartbroken, with nobody to turn to. As life moves on, things may change, and people always come and go from your life. Your friend might move overseas, or stop texting you, or you might fall out of friendship after an awkward event from which you could never recover (no, these have totally not all happened to me, shut up i’m fine), or your fairy companion might just disappear without so much as a goodbye after their task is complete. And it feels like you didn’t matter at all. That they never really cared about you, and you’re as easy to drop and move on from as a child’s toy. You might get angry, and want to shut them out, and give them a taste of their own medicine. Majora’s Mask teaches you that this isn’t the case. Life is ever changing, but you will always have the memories of times with your friends, and a chance to make more with new friends, like a sassy talkative fairy sprite and her shy brother or a child made of wood who wants to destroy the world. Friends come from unlikely places, so accept that change will happen and hope that wherever the people you knew are, they’re okay. You’re thinking about them, so they might be thinking about you too. And who knows? Life is unpredictable. They might just come back one day, and it’ll be like they were never gone.

Evidence 9 (the final one, I promise): The Song of Healing. At the end of all things, after losing ones you love, connections to family and friends, memories of things long past... you need time to heal. Link’s journey through Termina is a constant gauntlet of running into his own past traumas, forced to relive them again, and again, and again. But sometimes you should take a deep breath, gather your thoughts, and take time to heal. Although it can be important to confront your fears and learn to surpass them, it is exhausting, and you can end up more emotionally broken than when you started. The three masks all had regrets of powerlessness; unable to protect your community, your loved ones, or even yourself. Troubles you’ve gone through that keep plaguing your mind, and you’re wondering if you’ve done enough, seeking answers where none can be found. And the best thing you can do... is accept and move on. Be kind to yourself, and give yourself time to heal. Link’s way of processing his grief and trauma is to create an entire hellscape world in his own head, but not everyone processes it the same way. Sometimes you feel like you need to busy yourself, or listen to soothing music, or talk to people you trust, or spend copious amounts of money, or make some angst art, or cuddle your plush toys until their stuffing squeezes out. Sometimes life hits you in the face and you want to blame yourself for standing in the firing line, but it’s not your fault. It’s okay to feel however you feel, whether you’re drenched in a pool of tears or you just feel numb, it’s okay and natural. You’re okay. You’re here.

Okay so it got kinda personal at the end there but I hope it was informative, and made you think a little bit differently about Majora’s Mask and Ocarina of Time. You probably want to go back and play them now. Me too.

So was this all just an excuse for me to gush about how cool Majora’s Mask is? Hell fucking yes it was. Congratulations for making it through my monstrous ramblings, you get the secret prize of looking at my weird art on my DA. Here you go. Have a nice day, Zelda Nerds.

#long post #legend of zelda #majoras mask #young link #fierce deity #zelda theory #wow i cant believe i never realised i wrote fuckig outset island instead of koholint im dumby af

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer), Chapter 3 (Branjie, Jankie) - Joley

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Brooke Lynn furrowed her brows and strummed her fingers against the table. “So, let me see if I’ve got this right – you invited Jan over to practice for her audition, got wine drunk, then dry-humped until she got off?”

Jackie nodded in confirmation, her eyes fixated more on her coffee cup than Brooke – she had to build back up to being able to make eye-contact. “Then in the morning she was gone and she left me a note,” she finished, holding the piece of paper up. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t your smartest move,” she told her, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all. “But if she just left like that, she’s probably just as scared as you are. Listen, the first day I met Vanessa was a mess. I walked her home from work that night, kissed her, and then literally ran away. She still makes fun of me for it.”

The story made Jackie laugh, but it caught her by surprise as well. She had always seen Brooke as someone so unshakably confident. “I guess if things worked out for you guys, all hope isn’t totally lost…” She took another sip from her drink and sighed. “I still don’t know how I’m going to face her in class on Monday,” she admitted.

Brooke reached across the table and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Just focus on your work. I promise I’ll find something to keep you busy, okay?” As much as she wanted to continue her matchmaking game, she could see that the tension needed to diffuse before she tried to push them closer. Just because Katya lucked out didn’t mean lightning would strike twice.

Jackie’s entire body relaxed in relief. She was still anxious about seeing Jan again, but it meant a lot to know that Brooke was looking out for her. “Okay. Yes, thank you. I can work with that.” She nodded, then checked her phone. “I have to get going, though. I’ll talk to you later,” she said as she gathered her things, including the note that she tucked into her pocket.

Brooke smiled and waved her off. She stayed put, though. She was expecting Vanessa any minute now. They liked meeting here when they could, after all, it was the café A’keria recently became the owner of, the same one she’d started working in after the Starbucks fiasco all those years ago. It was sentimental to them now.

“Hey boo,” Vanessa greeted as she walked in, leaning over and giving her wife a kiss before sitting down. “Must’ve just missed Jackie, how’s she doing?”

“The poor girl is going through it,” Brooke shook her head sympathetically. “She and Jan got drunk and fooled around, and Jan left before she woke up. She left a Post-It or something.”

Vanessa frowned and shook her head. “Mh-mm, I hate Post-Its. If you’re gonna dip, send a text like a normal person,” she mused.

“Maybe she thought a handwritten note would be more meaningful,” she reasoned. “Regardless, she’s just gonna need some time to recover before we continue with any matchmaking shenanigans.”

Vanessa gave a firm nod of agreement. “Understood.” She sat quietly for a moment, strumming her fingernails against the table. “I wanna talk about the baby thing.”

Brooke blinked in surprise at the abrupt subject change but leaned in to listen attentively nonetheless. “Of course, what’s on your mind?”

“Listen… I know we got good genes and all, but I don’t wanna create a baby in a lab when there are so many kids that need a family. I had friends in foster care when I was little, you know? That shit must’ve really sucked for them. And I just think… You and me are in a position to really help a kid out,” she told her, then held her breath as she waited for her wife’s response.

Brooke reached across the table and held Vanessa’s hands. “Baby girl, if that’s what you want, I am a hundred percent on board. I think that’s a wonderful motivation to adopt. We can start looking at agencies as soon or as late as you want. I’m in this with you all the way,” her thumb stroked over Vanessa’s wedding band. “That’s what I promised you. That’s the promise I make to you every day as your wife.”

Vanessa blinked and looked down. “Shit, you gonna make me cry,” she mumbled, giving Brooke’s hand a light squeeze to reassure her she was okay. “Guess we gotta think about redecorating the guest room then, huh?”

“You know my weakness for interior design,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to the back of Vanessa’s hand.

—

By the time Monday rolled around, Jackie had talked herself out of most of her anxiety. When the time was right, she thought, she could talk things out with Jan. But until then, she had a job to do, a job that she did like.

Jackie’s main task was to write a lot of information on the chalkboard. It was perfect as far as she was concerned – having her back to the class meant she didn’t have to worry about making awkward eye contact with Jan. She had to admit, it was kind of a genius move on Brooke’s part.

Jan, however, was left with a predicament of her own. She and Gigi had sat in the front because even with contacts or glasses, they were both nearsighted as all hell. However, this put Jackie right in her line of sight, and she immediately began regretting her decision.

While the dress Jackie wore came down to her knees, the fabric clung to her body in a way that accentuated some of her best physical features.

And Jan hadn’t meant to stare – staring was rude and her mother taught her better. But she would be damned if Jackie’s ass wasn’t hypnotizing her. She couldn’t help but wonder how she hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re gonna snap your pen in half with the way you’re biting it,” Gigi poked Jan’s shoulder, snapping her friend out of her trance. “Also, some subtlety really wouldn’t hurt you right now.”

Jan blushed, looking down at her notes, which were nowhere near as detailed as usual. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gigi chuckled. “Please, your eyes were about to burn a hole into her butt.”

“They were not, I was just reading the board,” she insisted, but now that she had to actively avoid staring, her body seemed all the more compelled to continue. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to get her mind and body on the same page.

“Hey, you have good taste, I’m just saying be less obvious about it.”

Jan just buried her face in her notes, hoping that if she focused on getting work done, her mind would stop conjuring images of Jackie in various states of undress.

“…And that’ll just about do it,” Brooke Lynn was saying. “You guys are free to go, see you Wednesday.” She closed her book, punctuating the dismissal. Her eyes followed the students out of the room, waiting until they were alone before speaking to Jackie. “How are you feeling?”

Jackie exhaled deeply, dropping herself down onto the desk closest to Brooke’s as if she were dead weight. “I feel okay. I think not having to look at her made it easy. Have you seen her eyes? They’re so warm and brown and–”

“–And couldn’t stay off of you,” Brooke finished with a smirk. “Jackie, she is hot for you, you should’ve seen how she was staring at you. I already knew you have a great ass, but damn, it had a magnetic pull on that poor girl.”

Jackie turned a shade of red deeper and brighter than it had ever been. She suddenly became hyper-aware of her body, not necessarily in a self-conscious way – in fact, part of her was flattered – but it was overwhelming to process at first. “I guess she might not regret the other night that much then,” she managed with a strangled laugh.

“Honey, it’s pretty clear she wants a repeat performance. I wasn’t even paying all that much attention to her, but I swear I almost offered her a towel,” she chuckled.

Even though Jan was long gone, Jackie looked out of the classroom and into the hall, as if she could still catch sight of her. “I never thought I’d be relieved to be objectified,” she mused.

Brooke let out a light laugh at that. “So you’ll go talk to her?”

She shook her head as her gaze drifted back to the desk. “Not yet. Soon… Hopefully soon. I think I’ll know when I’m ready.”

—

“Well, other than you ogling the TA you fooled around with, I think today went well,” Gigi said as they walked back to the residence hall. “You ready for your audition later?”

“I wasn’t ogling her.” Jan chewed on her lip. “Don’t laugh, but…” She shifted awkwardly as she looked anywhere but directly at her friend. “I’m worried I might be too… distracted to nail it.”

Gigi looked at her friend with an arched brow. “First of all, yes you were. We established this. Second, you think you’ll be too horny to focus on singing?” She really did try her best not to laugh, but a small giggle slipped through. “Babe, just masturbate like a normal person before you go.”

She huffed. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? Lem’s probably gonna be in there, what am I supposed to do, tell her to leave so I can jerk off? We’re close, Geege, but I think there’s a line.”

“Then go in the shower. Jesus, do I have to spell it out for you?” Gigi rolled her eyes.

“You don’t think it’s weird to get off thinking about someone you’re not dating?” Jan asked quietly.

Her friend pinched the bridge of her nose. “At this point I just think you need to do it so you stop sounding so neurotic and paranoid. Hell, if I wasn’t in a committed relationship, I’d offer to help you out myself.”

Jan cocked her head to the side. “Thanks, I think.”

When Jan did get back to the dorm, she saw Lemon on her bed with her AirPods in, just as she’d anticipated. She waved at her to get her attention, waiting for her to take one of them out. “Hey sweetie, I’m just gonna shower before my audition. You know, get nice and calm,” she told her.

Lemon smiled and nodded. “Oh shit, I forgot that was today. Break a leg! But like, not in the shower. That would be bad.”

Jan chuckled as she grabbed what she needed to bring into the bathroom. “I don’t know where I’d be without your wisdom, doll,” she winked playfully before leaving.

The first thing Jan did once she got in the shower was put music on – this wasn’t her first rodeo, so to speak. Even with earbuds in, she knew she ran the risk of Lemon hearing her moan if she didn’t drown it out. With the music playing and water running, Jan undressed and stepped into the shower, letting out a sigh of relief the second the hot water hit her body.

After she washed her hair, Jan leaned against the shower wall, resting her head against the cool tile. She let her hand travel down her body. There was a moment of hesitation when her fingers grazed over her pussy, but after a deep breath, she began rubbing her clit with two fingers. Her eyes fluttered shut as soft, breathy moans slipped out.

“Fuck…” Jan wasn’t thinking about anything at first, but without even trying, her thoughts drifted to Jackie, to what happened the other night, to that day in class. And once she got started, there was no chance of stopping. “Oh, Jackie…” she moaned, rocking against her fingers. Her free hand went to her breast, groping it, and tweaking her nipple.

By the time her orgasm hit, Jan needed to rest her entire weight against the wall to keep herself up. Her legs were shaking and she was whimpering, taking deep breaths as she finally felt sturdy enough to stand back upright. After that, she just did a quick wash off her face and body before getting out and drying off, going back into the bedroom wrapped up in her robe shortly after.

“Hey, feeling any better?” Lemon asked casually. It was clear she hadn’t moved an inch this whole time, nor was she aware of what Jan had gotten up to.

“Much better, actually,” Jan nodded, taking the towel wrap off of her head and combing her hair out. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” she asked as she continued getting ready.

Lemon paused her music and took out her earbuds, she had been waiting for an opportunity to talk about herself. “Actually, I’m meeting up with a girl later.” She didn’t wait for Jan to ask before she continued. “Okay, so, like, I had just lit a joint and I see this really pretty girl – tall, you know how I like ‘em – and she seems hella stressed, so I offer her a hit. So, we’re smoking and chatting and long story short, we have a date tonight.”

“That was the short version?” Jan teased as she got dressed. “I’m guessing it’ll be more of the same?”

She scoffed. “No… We’ll probably fuck too.”

Jan laughed softly as she straightened her hair, then pulled it up into a high ponytail. “Well, it’s always nice to have an itinerary,” she hummed. “I’ll see you later.”

—

“Next!”

Jan stepped onto the stage and held herself with confidence. She introduced herself, handed the sheet music to the pianist, and then she simply did what she did best; she sang. She gave it her all, emoting all the right words, belting all the right notes. There was a lingering rush of adrenaline when she finished. “Thank you,” she smiled politely and made her way off stage.

“Great job up there,” a distinct voice out of seemingly nowhere caused Jan to jump, startled.

“Oh, thanks Vanjie,” Jan smiled, running her fingers through her ponytail. “I didn’t realize anyone other than the directors were watching.”

Vanessa shrugged. “People gave up tryna tell me what to do a long time ago. Except for Brooke, but there’s always an exception for the wife. But anyway… you feelin’ okay? I don’t know all the details, but I know you had a rough weekend.”

Of course, Jan figured Vanessa knew more than she let on – she could safely assume Jackie told Brooke, and Brooke told Vanessa. But she hoped some details had gotten lost in translation. “Oh, yeah, I guess,” she bounced awkwardly on the balls of her feet. “Things are a little weird, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Listen, I’ve been in your shoes. The worst thing you can do is overthink it. Brooke did it, Jackie does it, and I get the vibe you do too. Not everything’s as deep as y’all make it out to be, you know?”

Jan chewed her lip and nodded. Sure, she knew Vanessa was right, but it was easier said than done. It wasn’t something she could simply stop doing, something she could just turn on and off at will. “The situation’s just… It’s complicated. But I get what you’re saying, I do,” she assured. “All I wanna focus on now is being able to sleep tonight so I can be ready to see if I got a callback tomorrow.”

Vanessa gave Jan’s arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “You got this. Ain’t no one around you doubting that.”

And Jan tried her best to take that to heart, she tried to stay positive the rest of the night, to turn her brain off when it was finally time to sleep. She was pretty sure she passed out at nearly three in the morning, but as soon as her alarm went off, she shot right out of bed.

Lemon rolled onto her side, watching Jan scramble to get ready with energy from god knows where. “How the fuck do you do that?” she mumbled groggily.

Jan shrugged as she brushed her hair. “It’s a blessing and a curse, Lem.” She checked her phone. “The callback list should be up by the time I get there,” she murmured, offering a quick goodbye to her roommate before she was out the door.

By the time she got to the auditorium, there was already a small group of hopeful actors forming outside the doors. And as soon as the list went up, they all crowded around it.

Too impatient to wait, Jan made her way to the front, offering haphazard apologies to everyone she bumped out of the way. It was worth it for the happiness and relief she felt when she saw that she was on the callback list for Veronica.

The first thing she did was call Gigi and did her best to not scream into the phone. “I got a callback! And there were only two other girls listed for Veronica, Geege, I’m this close to getting it. I can taste it.”

“That’s my girl, I knew you’d crush it,” Gigi replied. “You’re gonna nail the callback too, and don’t be afraid to take my advice again if you need it.”

Jan furrowed her brows. “How did you know I followed your advice?”

Gigi had a smug grin that Jan swore she could feel through the phone. “I didn’t.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #jan sport #jackie cox #branjie #jankie #lesbian au #university au #college au #smut #hold me tighter even closer #joley

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incoherentbabblings · 4 years

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First Date (6/9)

Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues Ao3 link here!

Tim pulled Stephanie ashore, collapsing into the grassy muddy banks of the river. Stephanie’s breath was shallow and fast, and he could see her pulse at her throat throbbing. Her eyes had drifted closed, and her head hung limply against the floor, her tongue lolling dangerously at the back of her throat. He couldn’t let her go into shock.

“No. No. Steph.” Tim uttered, raising her head so she could breathe more easily. He looked down at the gunshot wound that continued to slowly pump out darkening blood from her torso.

“Steph!” He shook her incessantly, but she only gave a light mewl, and remained limp in his arms.

Exhausted from the night’s events, Tim steeled himself, and went to lift her. The weight of the water and his general tiredness meant he struggled more than he had when he first gave her that piggyback four hours ago, but he managed it. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and he jolted her so that her neck wouldn’t fall back and risk her not being able to breathe.

When he reached the top of the bank, he puffed out a conflicted sigh of relief to see the Batmobile waiting for him. The back doors opened, and Oracle’s voice sounded from within.

“You sit with her Timbo. I’ll get the car to Bristol.”

Feeling his eyes sting with tears, Tim said nothing and crawled into the back.

The doors closed with a reassuring thud, and the car set off, faster than any other vehicle on the road within Gotham. The blue lighting was somewhat reassuring, as was the speed with which they were being driven, but Tim kept his eyes on Stephanie. Her head was on his lap, the rest of her stretched out as best Tim could have managed. Tim listened to his own breathing, hearing it rattle in and out. He was near a panic attack.

“Babs?”

“Mm?”

“I think I’m freaking out a bit. Can you tell me what to do when we arrive? How I can help her?”

“Can you take instructions okay?”

Chewing his lip, he responded with a small, “Think so.”

"I’ll help however I can.” Her tone was reassuring, despite the electronic alterations, and the maternal soft tone was enough to make him crack.

“…Thanks.” He very quietly began to sob. Leaning forward, his forehead smacked against Stephanie’s, who shifted in response. Tim glanced down at his hands, which were compressing Stephanie’s wound from both sides. Red ran between his fingers.

“I messed up.” He said to both women. Stephanie did not react beyond a twitching of her eyebrows.

“Tim…”

“I was trying to get her to Bristol safe! I didn’t trust the police with her, and I knew that Batman would be looking for Crystal. I thought I could get her somewhere safe and –”

“Why didn’t you activate the tracker when you found her?”

“What?”

“The tracker Batman gave you? If you switched it on when you first met her, he would have found and her and taken her somewhere safe in the city centre.”

Her tone hardened, and Tim realised with growing horror how his self-given mission was doomed to fail from the start.

“I had to stay hidden…”

“You could have gotten her to Batman without compromising your location. There were ways around it. Why did you stay with her and drag her across the city?”

Tim had no response that wasn’t pathetic, lovesick, or juvenile, so he said nothing.

Stephanie it seemed, despite her delirium, did have something to say.

“…wanted you with me…”

“Steph.”

“…don’t want them angry with you. Not your fault.”

If Barbara had heard Stephanie, she gave no indication to Tim. The drive was fast, smooth, and stressful.

“We’re here lovebirds. I’ll unlock it for you Tim, just carry her in.”

Tim did as he was bid, and carried her like a new bride, out of the car and across into the building. They’d gone through the back, out of sight from any camera.

Once inside the sterile suite, Tim carted her over to the med bay, laying her out in the cot. Barbara meanwhile connected to the house, switching all the lights on all the computers all equipment and lights. Tim heard the heating blast on at full power, trying to prevent he or Stephanie from getting too cold from their dip in the river.

“Get a blood bag or two ready. I already called Dr. Thompkins. If Stephanie has been shot with a clear exit wound, then it’s out of what you and I can do. Clean it up, then wrap her up tight. Keep her legs down flat, she’ll bleed out faster if you don’t do that.”

Brushing her hair way from her face, like he did when he first met her, Tim stroked Stephanie’s cheek anxiously.

“Steph? Stephie, do you know your blood type?”

She swallowed dryly, eyes still shut. Her lips were cracked and sore looking, her split lip had reopened.

“AB plus.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhmm. Had a few…before now. Anything’ll do.”

“I think we’ve got a few of that type.”

“’Kay.”

“Get her top off Tim, the t-shirt is just going to get in the way.”

Tim burned from embarrassment and Stephanie gurgled a laugh.

“Just… cut if off. Easier…”

“You sure?”

“Tim, hurry up.”

He did as he was told, following Barbara’s instructions. He wasn’t skilled enough of a medic to check for anything worse than cosmetic damage, so the best he could do was try to slow the bleeding until Dr Thompkins arrived. He flinched every time Stephanie cried out when he wrapped her torso, but it had to be uncomfortable to work.

Leslie arrived not ten minutes later to a nearly in tears sixteen-year-old and a seventeen-year-old who was probably going through the worst night of her life. She gently encouraged Tim to go clean his hands while she dropped her bag on a nearby table. Tilting Stephanie onto her side, Leslie cut through the bandages. After a brief moment of inspection, gave a very gentle sigh of relief at the sight of the wound.

“You are very lucky. Passed straight through with no debris. Didn’t even hit your colon or anything. Just damaged fat tissues.”

Stephanie smiled dopily and reached out for Tim’s hand, which he gave, attempting to be comforting. “Baby fat,” she joked. “Can’t get rid of it.”

He nervously hovered while Leslie worked, patched, stitched, and cleaned. Tim was unsure how long it had taken, but it was into the early hours of the morning by the time Leslie felt satisfied enough to return home and to leave Stephanie to rest for the night.

“Tim you can hook her up to an IV now, we don’t want her organs to get dehydrated.”

The gentle lady was packing her bags to leave, when a sudden thought occurred to Tim.

“Wait… she was shot in the leg earlier this evening. We got it glued at Central, but it came undone and she stitched it herself…can you check? The river we fell in…”

“Less than ideal conditions!” She chided, to which Tim burned red once more. His face gave away more than the expected level of guilt, instead he looked downright distraught, and Leslie blinked at his extreme reaction.

Returning to the pair’s side, she unbuttoned Stephanie’s jeans and pulled them off all the way. Her shoes, elastic flat slip on pumps, slid off easily.

“Maybe put a wash on for her clothes hmm?”

“I can do that.”

Leslie carefully undid the bandages, seemingly shaky at what damage lay underneath. Tim arrived back from locating more clothes for Stephanie (one of his button up shirts and a pair of leggings from the small unused pile of clothes Babs had, just in case), when he abruptly noticed a thin line just above her underwear, a scar that ran between her hip bones.

Oh. Baby fat.

Knowing he probably shouldn’t, he passed his fingers over the scar, and Stephanie, even in unconsciousness, shivered.

Stephanie’s stitches had managed to hold, and Leslie gave away how impressed she was.

“A little messy but… very good for someone doing it on themselves. And at this age too…”

More and more of the abuse Stephanie had undergone began to click into place for Tim, as did the fact that she had seemingly dealt with it alone.

He realised that it maybe wasn’t a coincidence that two lonely teenagers had clung to each other as quickly as they had. He wanted to make things better for her, but he had let his anxiety about not seeing her again get in the way, and he had insisted on clinging to her like a lovesick puppy. He thought he could win Bruce’s challenge and get to spend the night with her, but he’d messed up. Now Stephanie was laying unconscious having lost between a quarter and a third of her blood, only avoiding going into shock by what seemed like pure determination on her part.

She was as tough as nails, and Tim felt increasingly in awe of her. With every piece of admiration he gained for Stephanie, it felt like a bit of his own self-worth was being ripped away in exchange.

Leslie gave Stephanie’s leg wound another clean but left the thread and stitches alone. Wrapping it up once more, she slipped on the leggings and got Tim to hold Stephanie up while she slid on the shirt, buttoning up fewer than half the buttons at the front. She indicated for Tim to move Stephanie to the more homely bedroom to rest up and keep warm.

Once Leslie was satisfied, she went to leave. She looked back at Tim, who looked so tired and sad that she hesitated for a moment.

“She’ll be okay, Tim, I promise. We’ll keep an eye on it and there shouldn’t be any complications. So long as she doesn’t go diving into that river at least.”

Her gentle tease did not uplift Tim, whose eyes began to water.

“Yeah.”

A hand ran through his hair, and he nearly twitched away from the easy affection.

“Want me to stay, hon?”

“No, it’s alright. It’s really late… you’re probably tired. You’ll be alright driving back alone?”

“Course I will. I’ll be back before noon to check up on Miss Brown.”

He smiled with his mouth closed at her as she left. Upon remembering about the wet clothes in the washer, he moved them to the dryer, setting it off, and located a few bits of food for Stephanie to eat in the morning. He then moved back to the bedroom.

“Oracle?”

“Yeah Tim?”

“You’ll let me know how Bruce gets on? If he saves Crystal?”

“You’ll know when I know kiddo.”

“Thanks. Also…” He trailed off whilst he tugged over a large armchair next to Stephanie’s bed. Obsessively, he checked her IV and blood bag once more.

“Mm? Tim?”

“Oh. Can you let Dick know what’s happened? I’d rather he heard it from you than Bruce.”

“Sure thing. Go to sleep Tim. Try and rest.”

Curling up on the soft fabric, Tim settled in for the night.

Stephanie woke up to a thumping headache and a stomach that felt as sore as when she woke up from her c-section. Her leg throbbed painfully too. But, she was alive, warm and clean. She looked for the time, and saw on a bedside table a digital alarm clock that read half past four. Rain had begun to pour outside, the sound of the water drops making comforting noises on the windows. The room was very old fashioned, wooden shutters blocked out street lights, and dark furniture decorated square space.

Tim had pulled over an armchair, and was curled up, face hidden in the crook of his arm that was thrown over his head. He looked fast asleep. She lifted an arm, then realised she was attached to both a blood bag and an IV. Both were practically empty, but she knew better than to rip out the tubes by herself.

“Tim?” She called instead.

He jolted awake, snapping into a straight sitting position wiping at his face like he’d been crying.

“Hey!” The faked cheeriness was obvious even to her. “How are you feeling? Got a headache?”

“A real killer.” She laughed gently. She looked pointedly at the drips. “Think they’re both done… can you take them out for me?”

Blinking at her calmness, he nodded and rose, turning on the lights to bring a gentle glow to the room. He stopped at the bedside table, noting the time with a frozen expression.

“Just gonna… wash my hands. I’ll be just a sec.”

“’Kay.”

He was gone for a few moments too long to just be washing his hands, and when he returned, he had a worried look on his face. He was carrying a bottle of water and some crackers, which she duly began taking sips of and nibbling on. Leaning over her, he gently, but with a smoothness that only came with practice, unhooked her from the IV and transfusion bags. He sat back down once more, but his eyes kept flitting between her and the clock, as if the time was something worrisome. They sat in silence for a while, until Stephanie had sipped a third of the bottle.

“Tim?”

His gaze froze on the clock, guilt ridden.

“I think you’ve been lying to me.”

His breath was sharp, like she’d leaned over and slapped him again.

“Yeah.”

“What about?”

“Why I was in the centre of town... Why I didn’t contact Batman earlier.”

She set the food and drink aside and tried to sit up. It was painful, and she grunted as she did it, but she managed. “Tim... I’m too weak at the moment to be angry so can you just... Tell me the truth now?”

His nostrils flared, but he nodded. Moving slowly, like he was sixty instead of sixteen, he perched himself on the edge of the bed.

“I want to be Robin.”

“As in Batman’s Robin?”

He nodded solemnly. This was something very important to him, she realised, something not to be mocked.

“Robin’s dead, I thought? He hasn’t been seen in years. I mean, the second one… the first is Nightwing right? Down in Bludhaven?”

“Yeah…but, I thought I could pick up where he left off. It took a lot of training, and patience, and pushing Batman and Nightwing but… tonight was my final test. I was to start at Wayne Tower, then avoid Batman for twelve hours. Stay out of sight from eight pm to eight am. But then there was the shooting, and you needed me. I thought I could help you and finish that final test. Kill two birds with one stone, to be crude.”

Stephanie had her hands clasped on her lap whilst Tim explained. She struggled to follow, but she was getting the gist, and her heart was sinking as he went on.

“And it’s so stupid in hindsight, like I could have driven you here, right at the start… I have my car parked at the hospital, but I knew he would be able to follow that easy, so I thought we could do it on public transport… but everything just went sideways and then I wanted to impress you after the bus and that was a mistake and…everything has just been one giant mistake.”

Stephanie’s breathing had frozen as Tim’s guilt came to the forefront, but she managed to squeeze out a simple, “That explains… a lot.”

“I screwed up. I’ve had… I’ve had this since the start.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small black ball. Gently he handed it to Stephanie, who ran her thumb across the smooth surface. “A tracker beacon. For if I got in over my head and I needed Batman to find me. I could have called for Batman the moment you got to the hospital. He would have known you were safe and gone straight after your mom. Instead he spent half the night chasing us.”

“Okay… but, Tim, why didn’t you?”

“I… I wanted to be the one to help you.”

She sniffed and sneered. “Wanted to be a big brave hero? Save the girl and all that?”

“…It wasn’t the most pragmatic choice, and it wasn’t the right choice, I know that now but… I wanted to prove to Batman I could do it. I could do what he asked of me and more.”

“Prove to Batman? Really?”

“Or to myself. Both. Probably. And now he’s been gone for four hours. Which… it shouldn’t take this long…” Tim stood up then and anxiously paced across the room. “I fucked up. And I’m so sorry for it. Please believe me. I’m sorry.”

Stephanie had been patiently watching his confession, though as he went on her frown grew deeper, and her eyes grew wetter, until she could no longer bare to look at him.

“I can’t… get my head wrapped round you. You want to help people, I believe that. You wanted to help me, not just because you want to help people in general, but also ‘cause you like me, in that way. I get that… I mean, I like you too. A lot. I still do.”

Some of the fear slid off Tim’s face, but he still looked heartbroken. He repeatedly rung his hands together, nervously tugging at the skin.

Stephanie continued her thoughts, adding, “You don’t want people to hurt like you did when your parents were attacked… and this is noble, if a bit self-centred… but I get that. You don’t think that I don't spend so much of my time thinking about what I will have to do to redeem the bad stuff my dad has done—”

“You’re not responsible for your dad.”

“Neither are you responsible for your parents. But Tim… you didn’t do what was best for me, you did the best for your own ego and made my safety fit around that… And my mom…”

“Tell me what to do.” With that Tim left the bed and knelt on the floor next to Stephanie. He grasped her hands, earnestly holding them, and tried to catch her eye.

“What?”

“Batman hasn’t come back yet… I’m frightened something has happened. I know what he would want, for me to sit out of the way, even if it means he gets hurt.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to forgive me and I want to chase after Batman, but neither matter. What I want doesn’t matter. Not now. You haven’t had a choice this whole night. You’ve got one now. Tell me what to do.”

Pausing only for a moment, Stephanie knew exactly what she wanted, what she had wanted right from the start.

“…Gear up with whatever is in this place and take me with you to my mom... I wanna bash my dad’s head in until he passes out.” She confessed quickly, and not entirely ashamed.

Tim nodded slowly, contemplating how to get her wish fulfilled. He thought of the batmobile, still waiting outside the building for its owner to come collect it. Tim smiled absentmindedly.

“I can do that.”

“Eh?! No, you can’t!”

Stephanie jumped a mile at Oracle’s interference and Tim looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m not asking! Batman is in trouble, isn’t he?”

“…That’s not for you to fix!” Her voice was barked, though it was not entirely confident.

“We can help! Can Nightwing get here in time to help?”

“He’s held up.” Oracle confessed.

“He once said part of being Robin was disobeying orders. The jig is up, fine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make like a Robin and spoil the bad guys plans. A little anarchy, it’s good for the soul.”

Stephanie laughed, approving of Tim’s optimism. Oracle on the other hand, sounded more defeated.

“Tim –”

“Is there anyone else on hand who can help?”

“No…”

“Then we’re going.”

Stephanie looked around the room, trying to see where the electronic voice was coming from.

“I promise I’ll stay in the car, if that helps any?” Stephanie voiced. “Not like I can really go jumping and running at the moment.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“Oh, for sure!” Tim leaned over Stephanie and buttoned up the rest of her shirt, to which she covered her mouth to avoid laughing too hard. He slid on her shoes with a little effort. “But I’m just doing what I’m told.” He whispered, then heaved her upwards. She curled around, once again resting on his back. A solid ache from her wait down was enough to make her grunt and inhale sharply every now and then, but it was tolerable. She was going to see this through.

“Let’s save my mom and the Batman.” She whispered.

#dc #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #my fic tag #update!

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starspatter · 6 years

Note

I think you should do ALL THE ASKS :D

WELL ALL RIGHT THENA - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.1) DCAU TimSteph2) ItsuHaru3) Logan x Diana Prince4) Itsuki Koizumi x Kyouya OotoriB - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.*looks at WonderWolf and SuperBats*C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.BatCat. Even back when I wasn’t a fan of Batman I remember I read one DCAU comic involving Catwoman, and her character just didn’t appeal to me.D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.Any Kagepro ships tbh. Idk I’m just not really invested in the romance of the series. I prefer them all as friends/platonic.E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?Ahaha… I’ve contributed a fair bit of Kagecrack through vids/posts, though I think my favorite are these BTAS crossover edits.Also Kyorange and Skitzo!Kyon for TMoHS. (Plus the “genderbent cast is the previous generation” theory if that counts?)F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?Well I’ve been a Pokémon fan since elementary school. While I no longer watch the show/play the games, I still follow the new generations and RP on occasion.G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?Eeyup. While I don’t ship too often, when I do I ship HARD. ItsuHaru was my first real “obsessive” OTP, but I think the honor for the *very* first ship I had goes to… Cody x Ken from Digimon S2, in a sense. *shot* ^^; Idk I was just really focused on the idea of them making up and becoming “friends”. XP Though I also shipped Ken with Kari too bc of the Dark Ocean stuff. (Also Gary Oak x Molly Hale from Pokémon but that’s a whole other story. >.>; )H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?I’m still mostly a weeb so animu is my go-to, but I’ve been branching out to more Western stuff lately. (Although when it comes to Kagepro the songs are still the best medium. =3=)I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?Steven Universe. While I still love the show, hearing about all the toxicity in the fandom really turned me off so I just try to avoid it.J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)Again, Steven Universe. Also Over the Garden Wall and Bojack Horseman (the former of which I still really recommend you see).K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?I’m also gonna say Sunset Shimmer from Equestria Girls. She went from being a seemingly one-off villain to a fully redeemed good guy and leader in her own right. Though she still has her insecurities, it lets her relate to and help others in the same situation to not let those feelings of inadequacy or jealousy overcome them.Also Midna from Twilight Princess. Her change of heart from servicing her own needs to selfless sacrifice after observing how hard Link tried to save others mirrors my own feelings when I met Link in OoT/MM and watched him grow into a true hero, working to help both the people of Hyrule and Termina even when he had no obligation or was openly blamed for Ganon’s rise to power.L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)So I’m not a big fan of Dick Grayson in the DCAU (or any of his animated adaptations aside from Lego Batman; his YJ version being especially egregious) since I see him as rather childish and bad at dealing with conflict, but he’s admittedly a lot better in the tie-in comics, which give him some much needed development as Nightwing (whereas he barely got any screentime in TNBA). There he acts as a genuine big brother to Tim, and is shown to not be as nearly as bitter at Bruce as the Old Wounds ep would have one believe. I also like that they highlight Dick’s fondness for music, wherein his musical knowledge actually comes in handy to solve a couple cases.M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.All of the Mekakushi Dan, SOS Brigade, or Host Club tbhN - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).1) More Kagepro content in general2) More DCAU TimSteph 3) More ItsuHaru

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?Growing Up - Run River NorthDefinitely a Timmy Todd/TimSteph song now that I think about it. Especially the lines “I found my way without your help, with a broken family” and “monsters in my head”. ;(P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).…Tbh I’m really liking the “Legion x Ouran” idea lately. XD *shot*Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.Hm… I don’t think there are any I’ve really “abandoned”, per se. Most of them are still there, just not at the forefront anymore.R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?All the relationships in Kagepro *shot*S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)Molly Hale from the third movie is the god of the Pokémon world. Just… don’t ask lol.T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?Already answered, but I’ll add a few of my favorites for DCAU TimSteph:1) Tim cuts his own hair after RotJ (or rather just lets it grow long) since he doesn’t trust anyone else with sharp objects around him. Steph is the first person he allows to trim his hair for him (even though she has no experience with it either), since I imagine him feeling comfortable enough around her that he even falls asleep like Sousuke does with Chidori in Full Metal Panic! The Second Raid. (For context, he was raised as a soldier from an early age and this is what happened when they tried to take him to a salon. Played for laughs, but probably an accurate portrayal of people suffering from anxiety/PTSD having to deal with mundane tasks that trigger them.)

2) Similarly, Steph plays piano to help calm Tim down whenever he’s having a panic attack.3) After RotJ Tim refuses to wear red for a long time until Steph knits him a red scarf and tells him it “suits him” bc red is the color of heroes.

As an aside, I also recently like the idea that Logan was at Lex’s party in the DCEU and saw Bruce and Diana together, based on this playlist that I made. U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.Gonna talk about a few I don’t mention too often nowadays.

1) Link from The Legend of ZeldaLink will forever be my greatest true love. He’s the first real “hero” I believed in, and he honestly changed my life at one point to actually want to be a better person. While that faith has faded and I don’t think I can ever reach his example, I still wish I had that kind of courage and kindness - or at least be able to inspire others in the same way he did me.2) Meroko Yui from Full Moon wo SagashiteIf Link was the first (and only) person I ever truly fell in love with, Meroko was the one who taught me what “true love” was in the first place. I won’t say too much since I still sincerely hope you will check out the series someday, but suffice to say there’s a scene towards the end where she makes a choice that shows how much she has personally grown, and come to understand what it really means to “love” someone wholeheartedly.

3) Gary Oak from PokémonThis is a bit of an odd one, but Gary is a character I related to a lot when I was an adolescent since, of the main series cast, he was the first and one of few to really change his “status quo” by quitting training and deciding to become a researcher instead. In my eyes it seemed like a shockingly conscious choice to “grow up” in a world where you can ostensibly remain a “child” forever, and I both admired and deplored him for it (especially at that tender transitory age I was going through at the time, where it feels like you’re being forced to “become an adult” whether you want to or not).

V - Which character do you relate to most?Already answered.W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.Romance in general is really not my thing, so I dislike when it’s the focus/the writers feel the need to pair every character. I’d rather leave things open-ended most of the time.X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.Family/friendship stories + tragic adopted children wanting to be heroesY - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?X-Men, Kingdom Hearts, Dangan Ronpa, Fate/Stay Night, Various Magical Girl series, Various RPG Horror games

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)I feel like I’ve rambled enough already phew. OTL Thanks for asking though. =P

#cryptoriawebb #starspeaks

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iatethepomegranate · 7 years

Text

Homecoming Chapter 21

@iontorch @prettybeefballs @darkmagicianknight

The whole fic is a sequel to Human Connection (can be read as a standalone, but character personalities make more sense if read together)

Tag, in chronological order

Shiny Masterlist of the entire series (including AO3 link because I don’t trust tumblr to behave regarding external links)

Pairing: DickTiger

Rating: Teen, probably? I don’t know. There’s no sex anyway. (In this chapter)

Length: 5.4k (this chapter)

Summary: Dick and Tiger get some much-needed time together. Now that immediate danger is over, however, Tiger has far too much time to overthink things.

Notes: I don't think there are any particularly common triggers, but Tiger isn't in a great space mentally and Dick is still experiencing those symptoms (but they know why now so no more panicking).

Hopefully my source on language stuff was correct. I think the spelling is sometimes a bit different. Fewer a's. Anyway, hope it's right or I'm gonna hate myself making that a plot point.

Chapter 21

Tiger was sorely tempted to sleep in his clothes, but Jason stopped him in the hallway right outside Dick's bedroom in the manor. Tiger supposed it was also his own room, but it was strange to think of that after being absent for months.

“Give me your clothes,” Jason said.

“What?” Tiger was too tired for this.

Jason leaned in, whispering so quietly Tiger could barely hear him. “Go put on a towel or something and give me your clothes. I need to get the evidence off. Then you need to have a year-long shower or something so we can be sure there's no evidence left on you.”

“I am not getting naked in front of you.”

“Half-naked, more like.”

He was missing the point on purpose. Tiger stared him down.

Jason snorted. “Fine, fine. You can hand me your shit through the door.”

Tiger rolled his eyes and stepped into the bedroom to strip off to his underwear, throwing clothes at Jason through the tiniest opening he could manage without jamming his own fingers.

“Dick never mentioned you were shy,” Jason teased.

“It is called modesty. Have you not heard of it?”

Jason laughed at him, his voice shrinking as he moved away. Was it really common to simply... walk around shirtless in front of people you were not intimate with? Or was it simply a characteristic of this highly unusual family?

Tiger was never going to find out. He didn't really want to. Modesty was sometimes impossible while in the spy world. Wearing the lungee helped, but he had fallen out of the habit recently. He would have to start again. He had left one of them in this room when he'd left. Perhaps it was still there... unless Dick had taken it with him to his apartment.

Tiger washed his hands thoroughly before searching, finding it folded neatly in a drawer. Dick mustn't have touched it. The man never folded anything neatly if he could help it. If that was there, then maybe his Quran was... ah. There it was. On the sparse bookshelf in the corner of the bedroom. It had been a simple enough task to clear a shelf so it could have a place by itself. Most of the books Dick had were old schoolbooks or romance novels with swooning maidens and oddly attractive noblemen. And a few circus arts photo books.

Tiger was suddenly grateful he hadn't had much time to pack when Bruce forced him to leave. Helena had returned the spare Quran to him that he had originally left at St Hadrian's. He wasn't sure where it was now. Helena might have taken his things with her before she detonated the explosives. He had been... preoccupied at the time.

The anxiety that had plagued him all day still had its claws in him. He wouldn't be able to sleep in this state. Well. He needed to wash up anyway, and he had not yet given his final prayer for the night, preoccupied as he was by the escape and Dick's subsequent brush with death.

Tiger showered, washing himself thoroughly, and took the ritual washing steps required for prayer at the end. Then he dressed and wound the lungee onto his head. His Quran hadn't collected much dust. Someone must have kept it clean for him. Damian, most likely. Dick had left the manor at some point after Tiger had.

Praying helped, like it usually did. It calmed him, even if the feeling of the anxiety ebbing left him exhausted. It had been a difficult day. He had earned that.

The calm carried him to sleep, but not so well that dreams did not haunt him. He woke breathless, disoriented, heart pounding but unable to remember why. There was a strange feeling of dread in his stomach and he felt around for Dick's presence. He wasn't there. Why wasn't he there?

Tiger curled up, breaths hissing ineffectively in and out. Do not panic. Where was Dick? He had the distinct feeling he had forgotten something.

Wait. Dick was fine. He was in the batcave med bay, fighting a migraine. Well, fine was perhaps inaccurate. But he was not in danger.

Tiger sat up, putting his head between his knees until he could breathe again. He reached over and found the digital clock Dick kept hidden in a drawer because the light annoyed him. It was after two in the morning. He had slept only a couple hours.

He needed some time to calm down. He couldn't remember his dreams this time, thankfully, but there was an empty feeling that made him think they had something to do with losing Dick. He needed to see him or he would not be sleeping more tonight.

He hoped Dick was asleep or at least feeling better. Tiger found a ridiculous fluffy bathrobe Dick owned but never wore and a pair of socks that held the cold at bay, just a little bit. The wooden floors of the hallway outside the bedroom still chilled the soles of his feet, so he moved faster, grateful no one was awake to see him slipping around like a foal.

He almost expected to see Bruce at the computer in the batcave, but apparently the man did sleep sometimes. Once every year, perhaps?

There were soft voices behind the door to the med bay. Someone was awake. Tiger gently tapped on the door.

“Enter,” came Alfred's voice.

Tiger opened the door slowly, in case it made noise. It didn't.

Dick was sitting up, cross-legged in the middle of the bed with a pile of pillows supporting his back. He smiled over at Tiger, eyes bright despite the dark circles beneath them, and his lips were almost symmetrical now. Tiger breathed a sigh of relief, a little louder than he had intended.

Alfred passed Dick a child's drinking cup, the kind with handles on each side and a spouted lid for drinking. Tiger had forgotten the word people used for it. Something childlike, fitting given its usual purpose.

Dick took a sip, holding it by the handles with both hands. “Ah, water. How I missed ye.” He patted the end of the end with his right foot. Or, well, he attempted to. It wiggled more than anything. Dick glared at it and repeated the motion more successfully with his left. “Sit with me?”

Tiger sat on the spot Dick had indicated. “You look better.”

“Head's still pounding and my right limbs still kinda hate me, but yeah. I don't feel like I'm dying anymore.” He smiled over at Alfred. “I'm okay, Alf. You should get some sleep.” He set the cup down in what looked like a custom-made cupholder on a trolley that also carried a heart rate monitor. Then he wiggled his left pointer finger, which had a clamp linking him to the machine. “You'll know if I need you.”

“A few more tests, sir.” Alfred brandished a ruler.

Dick groaned. “Spoiler alert: my reflexes still suck.”

Alfred rounded the bed and held the ruler in the air, a small camera in the other hand. “One more time.”

Dick sighed and held out his right hand. Alfred dropped the ruler. Dick missed grabbing it entirely.

“Your reflexes have improved slightly,” Alfred said, crossing to input the data into the computer. “We will test you again in the morning. Master Tiger, do you intend to remain here tonight?”

Tiger would prefer that, but felt strange asking.

“I'd like you to,” Dick said. That made it easier.

“I will,” Tiger said.

Alfred ducked into another section of the med bay, pushing a screen aside. He pulled out a second bed on wheels and dragged it to the other side of the heart rate monitor. Separate out of necessity due to the medical equipment and access in the event of an emergency, but close enough that Tiger would be in Dick's space enough to go back to sleep.

Alfred stole one of Dick's pillows for the bed. Dick only complained for a few seconds. Alfred checked the vitals on the monitor, made Dick drink some more water, and then left them for the night.

“He has an alarm system in his room that'll let him know if I need help,” Dick said. “I'll be fine. I promise.”

“I thought you were going to die,” Tiger found himself admitting, not entirely of his own volition. He had not intended to say that to someone recovering from hours of pain.

“Me too,” Dick said quietly. Tiger squeezed his knee, but his awkwardness probably made it less of a comforting gesture and more... discomforting.

“Can you sleep?”

“I think so. I dozed off a bit while the migraine was screaming at me, so now should be easy. Comparatively.” He nudged Tiger with his good foot. “Get in bed. You look dead.”

“Flattering.” Tiger climbed into the other bed, which was surprisingly sturdy under his weight. Everything in here had to support Bruce's bulk, so he shouldn't have been surprised. Medical equipment was not often built to accommodate Tiger in either height or weight. He actually broke a stretcher once. Before Dick's time in Spyral, fortunately, or he never would have heard the end of it. Alia been bad enough, teasing him for...

And now he had made himself sad again.

Dick reached over with his heart-monitor-wearing hand, nudging his face. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“I broke a stretcher once,” Tiger murmured. “Not on purpose. I was too heavy.”

“I believe it. I've seen Bruce break chairs by sitting on them.”

Tiger found a smile working its way onto his face, despite everything. “Alia saw the whole thing. She teased me for weeks.”

“You miss her.”

“Mm.” Tiger was beginning to regret opening his mouth.

“That's okay, you know. You're allowed. Double agent or not, you still spent a lot of time with her.” Dick lay down, nudging Tiger's hand until he took the hint and laced their fingers together. “Remember the good stuff. I know she cared about you at some point. Nearly ripped my face off after the Old Gun mission when you had to go in and save my ass without sniper support.”

Maybe Tiger was not regretting opening his mouth so much. He leaned down and kissed Dick's fingers. It felt good to do that. They didn't have to hide how they felt anymore.

“No one is completely good or completely evil,” Dick said. “Remember the good in Alia. Remember how she was, not what she became. Even if she did try to frame me for murder a little bit.” He laughed, a little sheepishly. “Anyway. People are complicated. I've lost people who I had complicated relationships with. Dwelling on the bad doesn't help.”

“You should have been a grief counselor,” Tiger told him.

“Hey, I'm still young. Anything could happen.” Dick grimaced. “I'm not sure I'm ever gonna be Nightwing again, so... may as well explore my options.” He huffed out a breath and pasted a smile on his face. “Whatever. Not gonna think about that now. Happy thoughts, eh?”

“Yes. Happy thoughts.” Tiger desperately needed that, and he sensed Dick did, too. “I'm proud of you. For holding up so well against Bannon.”

Dick shrugged his left shoulder. “Necessity makes heroes of us all.”

“I admire your bravery. Do not diminish what you did.”

“Okay, okay. I'm awesome. I admit it. You were pretty darn good in there, too.”

Tiger didn't think he was, but it was nice to hear. “I... thank you.”

“I'm serious. That shit was rough.” Dick's thumb rubbed against Tiger's nearest finger. “We're gonna need time to deal with that. I'm just glad we're together now.” He grinned, but it slipped off his face immediately. “Ooh. Ow. I hurt myself smiling.”

Tiger held back his laughter, because it really wasn't funny.

“Oh, come on,” Dick said. “You can laugh. I certainly can't. Let me live vicariously through you.”

Tiger snorted.

“Eh, that'll do.”

Dick's aggressive positivity certainly helped wipe away the last traces of dream anxiety. Tiger nuzzled into his pillow, smiling over at this wonderful man, this cheerful force only a few hours removed from a torture chamber and yet burning so brightly as if he had never suffered a moment in his life. That was true bravery. His heart was burning with love. Or, he hoped it was love. He hadn't eaten enough for indigestion, surely.

“Jaanaana—”

Dick cut him off. “You know, you promised to explain what that meant once we were free.”

“Oh. Uh.” Tiger coughed nervously. He was not the type to cough nervously—who did that?—but apparently he was now. “Would you like me to...”

“I'd love you to. I've been dying of curiosity.” He snickered the tiniest bit. “Ow. Please tell me before I hurt myself doing basic human things again.”

Tiger had to take a few breaths before he had enough air to speak. “Oh. It, uh... it means my love. Or my beloved. It depends on the translation. I... it slipped out one day and...”

“Oh my God.” Dick was grinning again. “Smiling hurts a whole lot right now but I can't stop. That's so... I love it. I love you. Please keep calling me that.”

“I intend to.”

“Aww. You're so sweet.”

“Hardly.”

“Yes, you are. You're not allowed to argue with the injured guy.”

Tiger laughed, muffling it in his pillow in case the sound was too much for Dick. “Very well. I am sweet. You, however, are the sweetest.”

“Oh, stop. You're just spoiling me now. And I haven't even come up with a petname for you yet.”

“Please don't.”

“Hey, we can't let this be one-sided. I feel mean letting you shower me with affection while I sit here like, yeah thanks. Come on. Be a sport.”

Tiger could not deny Dick anything right now. Or ever, really.

Dick pulled his blankets up with his weak hand, even laughing a little bit at his struggle. He'd managed to get it to grip the fabric before Tiger could offer assistance.

Then Dick sighed, his eyelids visibly heavy. “I'm glad you came down here. I missed sleeping next to you.”

“As did I.” Tiger leaned over to give Dick's fingers one last kiss. “And I love you, too. Very much.”

They didn't need to say more. Dick fell asleep first, finally giving in to his exhaustion. Tiger watched him for a while, finding comfort in every rise and fall of his chest, every soft breath filling the air.

Fingers still loosely tangled with Dick's, Tiger fell into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in months.

Dick woke, feeling distinctly hungover with a brain full of cotton wool, to find Tiger curled up on his side. Eyes open. Watching him. Dick caught a moment of softness before Tiger registered he was awake and climbed out of bed.

“I should call Alfred.”

“Chill for a sec.” Dick rubbed his face, sleep still clinging to the corners of his mind. He wiggled the fingers on his right hand. They felt weak, but they were moving better.

Last night had sucked, except for those moments with Tiger. Dick didn't remember half of what he said—the memories lost to some kind of pain haze—but he did remember talking about Alia, and Tiger finally explaining what jaanaana meant. He just wanted a few seconds to let all that warmth wash over him again before reality set back in.

“Sit with me?” he asked. “Just for a bit?” He shuffled more to his left. “These things can take both our weight. Bruce and Jason tested them together in a rare show of familial unity.”

Tiger gave him a look that was simultaneously affectionate and exasperated—he hadn't quite guarded himself yet but it wouldn't be long—and slid into bed beside him. It was a tight fit, not exactly comfortable, but Dick couldn't have given less of a shit if he'd tried.

“Hi, stranger,” he said, just so Tiger would give him that look again.

Tiger held himself up on one elbow and played with Dick's fingers in his free hand. “I know you did not hit your head that hard last night.”

“I do have some great swiss cheese pain memory going on, though.”

“Oh?”

“Don't worry, though. I remember the important stuff.”

“We have very different definitions of what is important.”

Dick grinned up at him, and it didn't hurt nearly as much as he feared it would. Progress. Tiger was playing with him, in his own way. They both knew what Dick meant.

Tiger ran the backs of his fingers along Dick's jaw. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Kinda hungover, though.”

“...meaning?”

Right. Tiger didn't drink.

“Still kinda tired. Head's pounding. Maybe a little nauseous.” Dick was silently grateful Tiger hadn't been in the room when he was vomiting the previous night. He kept that to himself; he'd managed to keep some food down and use mouthwash between Tiger's two visits anyway. “Don't tell me you've never gotten hit in the face with, like, a sleeping drug and woken up like that.”

“Not recently.”

“Lucky you.”

Tiger smiled indulgently. Dick had half a mind to tease him about it, but it really was nice to see him looking so relaxed. Knowing Tiger, and the way he dealt with trauma, it wouldn't last. So Dick kept that to himself, too.

“Morning breath kiss?” he asked instead.

“Will you throw up on me?”

“Probably not?”

Tiger kissed his forehead instead. Dick found that an acceptable alternative. He could always pounce on him later.

“Now may I call Alfred?”

Dick sighed. “Oh, fine. He's gonna make me pee into a jar again. I mean, I definitely could pee a lot right now but I'm always worried I'm gonna miss.”

“Uh-huh.” Tiger slid off the bed. “Stay put. I do not trust you.”

Dick didn't trust himself, either. He lifted his right leg and rotated the foot. Moving okay, but he wasn't sure what would happen if he tried to stand on it.

Alfred arrived with a tray of fruits. Dick had a sudden urge to eat everything in sight.

“Take your time, sir,” Alfred warned. Dick munched on pieces of watermelon while Alfred stabbed him with needles.

Tiger got kicked out at some point during the examination process, which definitely did involve peeing into a jar. Well, a plastic cup. And more freaky brain-scanning machines.

Dick was sitting on the edge of the bed, working up the nerve to try standing while Alfred put data into the computer. Alfred seemed fairly confident Dick could stand, though he wasn't so sure about walking. Dick, for his part, was trying not to set himself up for disappointment.

Before he could bring himself to do it, though, there was a knock on the door. Dick and Alfred looked at each other. Dick shrugged.

“Enter,” Alfred said.

Bruce poked his head through the door. “How are we doing?”

“Well,” Dick said, “right now, I'm in shock that you actually knocked for once in your life.”

Bruce joined him on the bed. “Tiger warned me you were probably peeing into a jar.”

“Did he actually say peeing, though?”

“No. Urinating.”

“That sounds more like him.”

Alfred finished with the computer. “Now, Master Dick, shall we try standing?”

“Do I have to?” Because joking about his fears sounded more appealing than actually facing them.

Bruce stood, offering his hand. “Come on. I'll help you up, just this once.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Dick grabbed it with his good hand, letting Bruce pull him up. He had to adjust his stance to put more weight on his left foot, but that was easy enough. That circus upbringing had given him a near-supernatural sense of balance. Thanks, Mum and Dad.

“Do you feel secure, sir?” Alfred asked.

“Relatively. Not sure I can walk without falling on my face, though.” He hobbled a step, half-expecting his right leg to crumble. It didn't, but it wobbled something awful.

“Very good,” Alfred said, typing something into the computer. “At this rate, sir, you should have sufficient mobility within a few more hours.”

Dick could've sank to the floor with relief, if Bruce hadn't chosen that moment to drag him in for a hug. Alfred had assured him repeatedly the symptoms were not permanent and typically disappeared within twenty-four hours, but there was definitely a part of him that feared he'd be stuck that way forever. He'd be (relatively) fine in a few hours, at least until the next attack. And he had no idea when that would be. They had as much data as they could find about that machine, but there was nothing like hands-on experience.

Was this simply a case of him developing a short-term tendency towards migraines? Would this become a chronic condition? Would he end up being more or less sensitive than the average migraine-sufferer who developed their condition due to natural causes? The unknowns were freaking him out a little bit.

Bruce squeezed him but didn't offer any verbal assurances. He didn't typically offer platitudes. Unknowns freaked him out, too. At least Dick could trust him to be honest. He wasn't the type to sugar-coat things for the sake of people's feelings.

Alfred placed a spiral-bound notebook with a pen in the binding onto Dick's bed. “Now, Master Dick. You will need to track your symptoms and triggers.”

“I'm right-handed, Alf.”

Bruce stepped back from the hug, raising an eyebrow. “Did I not teach you how to write left-handed?”

“Oh, you did. I just hate it.” Dick had been trained to do pretty much everything with his non-dominant hand. Writing was still unpleasant, though.

Alfred sighed. “You may ask someone to write for you, if you must. Light and sound appear to be common triggers among the machines' victims.”

“So no going outside without cool shades. Check.”

“Dick.” Bruce almost managed to sound stern. Impressive, really.

“I've had a bad week. Don't judge me.”

Alfred made him sit back down and suffer more tests and scans. He definitely wasn't getting out of here before lunch.

Tiger was glad to spend time praying with Damian at midday, for several reasons. First, of course, was the fact he simply liked praying. Second was the fact Damian was good, quiet company during this time. Third was unique. The entirety of Dick's family had not left him alone for more than a few moments today. He was flattered Dick's family cared enough that they kept seeking him out, but Tiger had never been a people person, even less so today. Dick was resting until lunch and Tiger had honestly hoped to have some time to himself.

So Tiger lingered on his favourite verses even after he had finished praying, sinking into the familiar text. Damian lingered beside him, even as he fidgeted.

“You can tell them to leave you alone,” Damian said. “Or I can do it.”

“No, I...” Tiger didn't want to reject their kindness. Stephanie had brought him chocolate, of all things. No one did that. He and Dick didn't do gifts. It had seemed impractical for a long time. Maybe that could change now.

They were just trying to help. It was not their fault he needed some time alone with his thoughts.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Do you like suffering?”

Sometimes Tiger honestly wondered if he did. He had lingered on his pain these past few months in a way he never had in the past. Maybe repression had been unhealthy, but wallowing was equally so, as well as impractical.

There was a balance. Why could he not find it? How did other people do it? Was there something wrong with him? And why was he having an (internalised) emotional breakdown because a child offered to help him?

He's been silent for too long. Damian made a kind of tutting sound Tiger had never heard another person do in all his years. Where did this child even get that from?

“I will tell them you leave you alone today, since you clearly cannot be trusted to interact with your fellow human beings.”

“You're not wrong,” Tiger said, closing his Quran. There was perhaps an hour until lunch. The sun was almost bright today and the gardens did not seem quite as rain-drowned as they usually did. Maybe a walk around the manor grounds would help him put his mind into working order.

He and Damian parted ways outside the room. Tiger put his Quran away and found a coat in Dick's closet. Tight around his shoulders, but it would do. Gotham weather was a liar. Even when it looked warm, even the slightest breeze would chill to the bone. He considered finding a beanie, but dismissed it as too dramatic.

Tiger hadn't had many opportunities to explore the gardens behind the manor. Bruce had not wanted him wandering unsupervised during his previous stay here. Dick had to fight just so Tiger could walk to a few set locations without a chaperone.

Well, Bruce wasn't here now, and Tiger was not above complaining to Dick if problems arose. He hurried down the back steps before Bruce could show up to stop him.

The climate rendered the back gardens of the manor especially green, though Tiger suspected it was not all in the hands of the weather. The lawns were even more manicured than St Hadrian's, which had been painfully immaculate. Tiger used to sneak off to find something that looked real.

He found himself wandering a sweet-smelling rose garden, separated from the grounds by dark metal fences. Gravel crunched underfoot, and that alone made him feel more alive than he had in months. Gravel. Really? Tiger decided not to linger on the thought.

The bushes were well-tended, but a little wilder than the rest of the grounds. Every colour imaginable was here, though the overall favourite seemed to be white. Those bushes were everywhere. They reminded Tiger of a funeral shroud.

He spotted a stone bench in the centre, surrounded by the gravel path. He leaned down to read an inscription: For Martha. That was the name of Bruce's mother, yes? Tiger suddenly wasn't so sure about sitting on the bench. Was it purely ornamental? Would it be disrespectful to sit on Bruce's dead mother's bench? Tiger didn't know the etiquette here.

He didn't know a lot of things.

“There you are.” Dick was leaning against the gate, a thick pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. “Dami said he spotted you out this way.”

“How did you get here?”

“I have to tell you something,” Dick said, too seriously to be real. Unless Tiger was making assumptions. “You see... that machine did something terrible.”

“Oh?” Best to take this seriously until he knew for certain.

“Yeah. I can't walk anymore. But it gave me some pretty sick invisible wings. You know... win some, lose some.”

Tiger tried not to sound too relieved as he replied, “But how will you fit into civilian society now?”

“Tim's making me some robot legs. I'll soon be a flying cyborg who gets hemiplegic migraines that may or may not be a long-term thing.” Dick pushed the gate open and limped through. “Just kidding. Except the migraines. Check out these cool shades.”

They looked like he had stolen them from a white middle-class great-grandmother. “Very cool, Dick.”

“I knew you'd like them. Alfred shone a flashlight in my face. It sucked. So he gave me these for going bright places.” He drew level with Tiger, leaning slightly to his left. “Don't tell Alfred I'm leaning. He'll smack me with a newspaper because I'm gonna give myself posture problems or something.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Dick lowered himself onto the bench. Tiger quickly followed suit. One question answered. Now if only everything else bothering Tiger could be resolved so easily...

“Is today a brooding day?” Dick said.

“I... what?”

Dick shook his head, smiling slightly. “Never mind. I'll save the teasing for Bruce. His reactions are funnier.” He lowered his voice to a respectable imitation of Bruce-as-Batman. “I do not brood, Robin.” He coughed, laughing through it. “Man, I haven't done that voice in a while. Should've gargled some gravel first. More authentic that way.”

“Your face looks better,” Tiger said. It... did not come out quite the way he had planned.

“Thanks. I powdered my nose just for you.”

“That's not what I—”

“I know what you mean, hon. You're right. The paralysis is dying down.” He wiggled his fingers. “Give me a few more minutes and maybe I can write in that nifty migraine journal Alfred gave me. Shame I won't have anything much to write until the next time my brain goes on strike like that.”

“You could write down the symptoms you remember.”

“I made Bruce take dictation for me already, even though he whined about it since he did technically train me to be ambidextrous. Mentioned everything I remember about last night.”

“Are the sunglasses helping?”

“Yeah. Just remind me not to stare directly at the sun.” The sunlight dimmed as clouds covered the sky. Dick looked upwards and snorted. “Not that there's much risk of that in Gotham.”

“Why does anyone want to live in this place?”

Dick shrugged. “Well, historically there was a reason. I don't remember what it was. Then people put down roots and didn't wanna leave. Now a lot of people come here for work, or stay because they've always lived here.”

“And you?”

“My family's here.” Dick rested his head on Tiger's shoulder. “I know it's hard to believe, given you and Bruce don't really get along, but he was there when my world fell apart. He took in a random kid from the circus because he knew exactly what I was going through. That's what he does. And, look, he has some pretty strong views on stuff like guns and killing, but he has a reason for that. I mean... I remember the first time I faced down a group of mob henchmen as Robin. The anger that boiled in me. They weren't the man who killed my parents, but they were cut from the same cloth, you know? Bruce is like that with guns. Plus, he gets protective of his kids. A random spy boyfriend who's shot people before? Hoo boy.”

“And yet you have fought with him. Over me.”

“Well, yeah. Just because I understand doesn't mean I can't see when he's being irrational.”

Tiger was unsure Bruce's problems with him were irrational at all. Here they were, pretending he hadn't helped Jason and Helena shoot Alia. Fatally. From where he was sitting, Bruce seemed like the only rational person in the world.

Dick reached up and kissed Tiger's neck. “Hey. Enough brooding, big guy.”

“I shot someone.” The words burst out of him, shaking through the air before he even realised his mouth was open.

“To save me.”

“I shot someone.”

“You weren't the only one.”

“We are lying about it.”

“Because Bruce is not gonna be rational about this.”

“Are you defending what we did?” Tiger did not recognise the voice coming out of his mouth. This voice did not belong to him. Who was he anymore?

“No. I don't like it. But I know why the three of you did it.” Dick squeezed Tiger's bicep. “And I'm grateful, okay? I'm alive because of that split-second decision. I'm in one piece, more or less, because of you.”

Tiger did not want to talk about this anymore. He did not want to examine his feelings about this. Too much confusion. Too much fear. Too much everything.

Relief came in Jason's shape, as he leaned over the fence to yell, “Hey, losers! Lunch is served.” Then he walked back up to the manor without waiting for them to follow him.

Dick grabbed Tiger's arm before he could move. “One second, gorgeous.”

“Are you testing petnames on me?” His voice still didn't sound quite right, but close enough that they could both ignore it.

“That obvious, huh?” Dick grabbed Tiger's chin. “Now our breath's better, I'd very much like to kiss you.”

Despite the bulky sunglasses and his questionable health, Dick pounced on him. Their lips locked. Tiger forgot about everything else. Including lunch.

It was anyone's guess how much time passed before Jason came back, yelling at them to come eat some sandwiches rather than each other's faces.

Dick laughed so hard he gave himself a minor headache, but insisted it was worth it.

#dicktiger #dick grayson #tiger king of kandahar #homecoming dicktiger fic #fanfiction #my fics

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