#oracle gets their moment of euphoria and all is well
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@majoraspades you asked for wip #17 so here ya go!! this one’s abt two Links from my au: Lorule and Oracle. they’re having a talk abt trans stuff. it doesn’t escape me that this is the first bit of writing that y’all are getting abt these guys which is kind of crazy, but eh ahsjkds it’s whatever here y’all go <3
context y’all might need: Oracle is a trans man, but he’s closeted and only out to Lorule, who’s genderfluid. Lo and Ravio are married for “tax benefits.” Oracle lives at the castle with his Zelda and acts as her lady-in-waiting, guard, advisor, etc. Basically they’re just really good friends who are kind of attached at the hip and find every way to spend more time together.
content warnings: very brief/vague descriptions of pain and injuries, dealing with dysphoria
…
Lorule shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore how the medical gauze rumpled under his ribs, or how his sweat-slicked bangs stuck to his forehead, or how horrible he looked.
He was happy to be home, at least. Hylia had been nice enough to set the portal’s opening to right in front of his house after he got halfway mauled by a bokoblin.
Okay, so he was being a bit dramatic. The wounds weren’t horrible (he hadn’t even needed stitches,) but they were bad enough that Wild had sentenced him to the couch, and his head cold only prolonged his stay.
Sighing, Lorule glanced over at Oracle who was stationed in the green armchair, all curled up with a book in his lap. When Wild asked for someone to stay and watch over the ill, he was the first to volunteer, to the surprise of several. Lorule wasn’t sure if he was actually worried about him, or if he just walked to sit down for a while.
Lorule watch them as they fiddled with a ribbon and bit his cheek absentmindedly. The older hero grimaced.
“Stop chewing up you’re cheek,” he said, voice too hoarse to be properly demanding.
Oracle’s eyes snapped up, filling with a familiar snark as they stared at him through their eyelashes. “Not even bleeding out will stop you from fretting, huh?”
Lorule huffed and tucked some hair behind their ear. “I am not bleeding out.”
“Anymore.”
He shot him a glare, though the mix of pain and sickness made it a lot harder to be mad. “The moment Wild gets back, I’m telling them to scold you for chewing again.”
“And I’ll tell them to scold you for not relaxing!”
“I am relaxing!”
Now it was Oracle’s turn to glare at him, though his had much more edge than Lorule’s did. “Liar.”
He scoffed and suddenly became very interested in both the wood and avoiding the wizard’s harsh gaze at all costs. Oracle didn’t make eye contact often, but when they did it was sharp enough to cut, especially when they were right about something.
And, annoyingly, they were definitely right. Lorule had yet to fully lay down or let their hair loose or even change into something more comfortable. It was a miracle Oracle was able to get him to take his binder off, though Lorule’s compliance was more out of fear of Ravio than Oracle. His husband wouldn’t be too happy catching him breaking house rule #7: no binding when badly wounded.
“Just stop chewing your cheek.”
Lorule looked back up at them and, sure enough, they had stopped gnawing at their cheek. He noticed for a moment how long their hair was, even if it was pulled back in the worlds shittiest ponytail.
“Who taught you how to do your hair?” he asked before he could stop himself. Had they not been both ill and injured they would’ve tried to have a little more class, though when they saw Oracle go rigid they regretted saying anything at all.
“Uhm… I did.” their voice got quiet, replacing any spunk they had before with defensiveness. “Why?”
A pang of guilt hit Lorule’s stomach, right next to the scratches in his flesh. He shifted again, and some of hair fell loose from behind his hair. “Oh, well, it just looks a little uncomfortable,” he floundered, trying to justify his words and make them less bitter. He really had to stop prying into other people’s sense of style, even if it really did look uncomfortable.
Oracle’s shoulders loosened a bit and he tilted his head up, looking in Lo’s direction but not quite at him. “Does it?”
Oh, thank Hylia, it worked. He didn’t offend him.
Lorule cleared his throat nervously, then winced at how it accentuated the burning from the nasal drainage. “Yeah, does it pull at your hair?”
He nodded.
“I can help fix that! Here, c’mere.” Lorule patted the cushion next to him, pulling their legs off of it as much as they could without any pain. Oracle obliged, albeit a bit reluctantly. Their position must’ve been comfortable despite how unbearable it looked. That, or they were hesitant to let a sick person do their hair.
Lorule repositioned themself again and loosened the blue ribbon in Oracle’s hair. It was sweet how he wore his Zelda’s favorite color so often, they really were adorably close. Oracle’s hair slipped from its confinement, falling against his back in a long, pink curtain.
Seeing it up close, Lorule finally understood just how fucked up the kid’s hair was. Didn’t he work in castle? Surely, his Zelda wouldn’t allow her right hand man to go around with such a scraggly haircut?
He had to bite his tongue to stop from asking. Really, he had to get his nose out of other people’s business. He remembered so clearly how it felt to be torn to shreds in Hytopia. It was horrible, no matter how justified it was. He had no right to put someone else through that, didn’t want to put someone else through that.
Oracle shifted under Lorule’s hands as he combed his fingers through his hair. To Lorule’s surprise, there weren’t that many knots, and the ones that were there were relatively easy to break through. It felt healthy and had a good sheen, too. Lorule smiled to themself. Even if the kid had no clue how to style it, at least they knew how to care for it.
Oracle couldn’t help but be a bit sheepish under the attention. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the sensation. They would never admit to that, though. Never. It didn’t matter if he’d already been embarrassingly vulnerable with the other hero on numerous occasions, some secrets were best taken to the grave.
He wasn’t very good at doing that, however, and the way he melted under the touch Lorule everything. Thankfully, he let it go unmentioned in favor of a different topic.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Lorule said as they worked through the knots, “why do you keep your hair tied back if it pulls?” They couldn’t help but push into their style choices just a bit. But, he wasn’t as crude this time and it was a legitimate question!
Oracle was silent for a few moments, formulating their words as the other hero’s gentle hands continued card through their hair. He mulled over his words for so long that Lorule realized they’d stepped into a sensitive zone yet again. Godsdammit.
“You don’t have to ans—“
“No!” Oracle snapped, body tensing up as they interrupted. They took a breath and tried to relax their shoulders. “No, it’s fine. You can know. It’s just… hard to word…”
Oracle’s tone made everything click. Lorule had only ever heard that tone twice before: when he’d found them sobbing by the lake and when he’d caught them looking jealously at a shirtless Spirit.
Shit. This was a trans thing.
Fucking of course it was. A frown weighed against Lorule’s brow as he realized just how deeply the cold and injuries were screwing up his critical thinking. He really wasn’t in the right state of mind to handle a talk like this, but, like an idiot, he’d already pushed too far and now he had to commit.
His voice was tentative, but croaked on certain vowels.
“You… don’t like having long hair, do you?”
Silence sat between them, and the only response Lorule got was a slight shake of the head.
He bit his lip as he looked down at the hair gathered in his hands. There sure was a lot and it all went down to the boy’s hips.
Another pang of guilt settled into Lorule’s stomach, wrapping its way around his ribs and clawing at his organs. How had he not realized how dysphoric that must’ve been sooner? Not everyone was able to be okay with having long hair like he was.
Another beat of silence, then: “Do you want to cut it?”
“What?”
He was about to die from how small and tender Oracle’s voice was.
“Do you want to cut it?”
In the quiet between them, Lorule remembered exactly why Oracle had come out to only them. “The people of my Hyrule… they’re… not as accepting at this group. I don’t want to risk any slip ups or suspicion,” they had explained, swearing Lorule into secrecy after he’d accidentally found out.
“We can lie. Say it got cut during a battle.” Oracle didn’t respond, and the older hero resigned themself to doing something they never thought they would. “I can make it choppy and uneven so it’ll be more convincing.”
“… What about the rest of the group? They’d know it’s a lie.”
“We don’t have to do it right now. We could wait until we’re back on the road, find an excuse to leave, and come back claiming we ran into a few ‘blins.”
The wizard shifted in his seat and let out a shaky inhale. “… You’d really help me do that?” The poor kid’s voice was cracking and it was obvious he was fighting back tears.
#bc i didn’t write an ending here’s what happens:#they hug and oracle cries it all out and they go through w the plan#oracle and lo come back to camp one day and oracle’s got short fucked up hair. no one thinks it’s a lie#well ok save Traveler but it’s fine ahsjkds he’ll keep ur secret babes <3#oracle gets their moment of euphoria and all is well#oracle prob loves that it’s all fucked up too. at heart they r a dungeon crawling gremlin who loves lookin messy#i love oracle can y’all tell#what’s that one quote that’s like#‘she’s my darling— difficult and morose but still my darling’ by. i think vladimir nabokov??#idk but. that’s me w oracle fr. my little fuckass. my dearest baby boy.#i’ll save y’all from a rant abt how much i love lorule too annskdks#sigh i need a writing tag. oh well#Hero’s Call AU
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I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 9
So, here's the last chapter for now. I hope I can introduce you to the next one fairly quickly, but it's still being written. Hoping you liked those already released and see you soon for chapter 10 🐉
(Link for Chapter 10 here)
Chapter 9 : I've always been used to only showing my human form
My footsteps echoed in the silent of the Guards' Corridor. I had just left Lance's room and it was with a much lighter heart than when I entered that I walked away. The distant rumor of the happy conversations had finally died down, leaving me wondering how long I had been able to spend with the dragon.
Finally, I didn’t regret my impromptu visit. Even if our understanding remained fragile and our points of convergence continued to darken the picture, his presence had nevertheless proved, in many respects, more beneficial than harmful. So, to my surprise, I never believed that one day I would come to beg for his patience to relieve my ailments.
Unlike the last time, it was with a feeling of euphoria that I could feel the magic continue to flow through me. Not as vigorously as when I awakened my powers, but undoubtedly, its power had slowly returned to pulsating in my veins. When I wiggled my fingers, I could still feel bits of heat run through my muscles. And the strangest thing about it was that instead of wearing me out, this power rush seemed to invigorate me.
For the first time in weeks, I felt good.
Looking up, I noticed that a small figure was wandering right in front of me. In the half-light of the corridor, I narrowed my eyes to try to make out her more clearly. When she passed in front of one of the windows, the moonlight let me see the face of a little girl with long, light hair. Not seeming to notice my presence, she continued to wander until she reached the entrance to the Crystal Room, right next to me. When the girl finally reached my height, I was surprised to find myself overcome by a familiar feeling.
Did I know this child ?
The young girl finally entered the room without a glance in my direction. Intrigued and attracted by her aura, I decided to follow suit.
I entered in my turn cautiously and almost immediately, a feeling of serenity had seized my heart when my gaze rested on the immense Crystal enthroned religiously in the center of the large room. On the doorstep, I was dumbfounded for a moment.
Strangely enough, I had not been back here since waking up. Truth be told, I had even avoided that room in which I had spent far too much of my life.
However, I didn’t know for what reason.
Bathed in a soft light, the Crystal seemed so imposing to me that I could not look away for several seconds. Without realizing it, my steps slowly led me to it, my hand timidly extended in front of me. As my fingers approached the smooth surface of its barrier, I felt the warm energy of my powers unleashed down my arm to the palm of my palm. Kinds of tingling covered me almost entirely and it’s the shortness of breath that I felt one of my fingers cross the protection which surrounded the luminescent crystals.
- Andraste ?
I jumped even more at the hearing of the voice that echoed behind my back. As if caught in the act, I quickly withdrew my hand and turned to my interlocutor.
It was his long blonde hair that I noticed first.
- Leiftan, what are you doing here ?
How had I managed not to realize his presence ? Since the big battle, aengel and I were connected. Whenever he stood next to me, I got to feel his emotions as if they were mine, and probably the other way around.
- I'll turn the question back to you, he said to me, his face marked by a certain curiosity. I couldn't get to sleep. When I left my room, I saw you come out of one of them and lead you here.
He marked a silence full of innuendo before adding, in a much colder tone :
- From Lance's, it seems to me.
I tensed at hearing his last sentence. A dull anger seized for a short moment in my heart and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was not mine.
- Yes, I just needed to clear some things up with him.
- At this time of night ?
I had the impression of undergoing the interrogation of a jealous lover, except that it did not concern him.
- I have no further explanation for you, Leiftan.
The latter didn't answer anything and just probed my face.
I had seen him very little lately. The aengel seemed to do his utmost to flee any presence and to keep away from all responsibility. I had already tried to ask him to train me, especially about my powers because until now, he had been the only one who could help me, but he had each time declined my requests.
- Good. But I reiterate, what are you doing here in the middle of the night ?
His anger had subsided, I only felt a great calm accompanied by a touch of curiosity. But his question brought me back to reality.
Where had the little girl gone ?
I realized that I had not seen her since I entered the room.
- I saw a child come in here, I said, hesitating to continue. There was something strange about her.
- Can you explain to me ?
I was a little confused on how to phrase it. How do I tell him that his aura attracted me ?
- She reminded me of... the Oracle, I finally let go.
His eyes widened slightly at what I was advancing, but he quickly regained his composure.
- I think I know who you're talking about.
- Really ? I exclaimed, in my turn surprised.
- Yes, Huang Hua reported to me the presence of a child in the HQ that nobody knows anything about. She does not speak, but some people have speculated that there is a connection between her and the Oracle.
I couldn't believe my ears. This little one has something to do with the Oracle ?
- I have for my part never crossed, I can tell you nothing more.
- Do you know how long she's been at HQ ?
He knew very well where I was going with this.
- It seems to me that she was noticed for the first time shortly before our return, he announced to me, his face serious.
Leiftan and I pondered his words. Our awakening was clearly not trivial, something strange was manifesting itself on Eldarya and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.
- I'll leave you, it's getting late and I think you might be better off doing the same.
He walked towards the hallway door and added quietly :
- Good night, Andraste.
Giving me one last look filled with infinite sadness, he finally left the room.
- Good night, Leiftan, I answered weakly.
*
Two days passed following these two unexpected interviews and the guard finally charged me with a few simple missions which occupied my days. My visit to the dragon chamber had really been fruitful, because since our discovery on the possible communion of our powers, I had the impression that mine had never really left me. I had thus discovered that I was again able to send a faint light from my hands, even in the absence of Lance, which gave me incredible surges of energy. I was finally starting not to tire myself at the slightest effort, even if I continued to perceive anomalies in my physical state, which did not prevent my mood from being markedly improved.
Having joined the Obsidian Guard, I had therefore started to perform the few requests that I was able to do as long as there was no specific mission to perform. I walked through the forge when I heard a voice that I recognized immediately.
My heart was racing against my will.
- We're going to need enough materials to consolidate these weapons. It will also be necessary to train new recruits and see their level in combat. I don't have time to train everyone, but I trust you to give me your feedback.
Without being noticed, I walked over to a shelf and put down what I had just bought at the market. Trying to concentrate on my task, I couldn't help but strain my ears.
- No worries boss, you know you can count on me. I already have some reports for you.
- Very good. Thanks Falco, it's a great job.
The young man by the name of Falco put a solemn fist on his heart and bowed slightly before stepping out of the forge. I was speechless. It was the first time that I had seen Lance as the leader of the guard and I had to admit that he seemed made for it. His naturally bossy tone commanded respect, and I was troubled to see the trust and admiration his subordinates seemed to have in him.
Pretending not to have noticed it, I bustled about my task and listed the effects I had just bought before putting them away in each compartment. After that, I gathered the things I needed to be able to complete my missions for the day and get out of here. But to my chagrin, one of the items on the list was at the top of one of the shelves. Huffing in annoyance, I reached out as far as I could but only managed to touch the end of the object. I was about to give up the idea when an arm appeared in my sight and effortlessly grabbed the mesh I needed. Standing behind me, I didn't have to see him to know who he was, though.
The tanned hand of the leader of the Obsidian patiently handed the object to me.
Turning my head, I fell on a bluish gaze plunged into mine. I grabbed the object not avoiding the trouble, I was going to succeed in catching it.
- Thank you, but it was not worth it, I was going to manage to catch it.
A carnivorous smile stretched his features.
- Yet I thought I understood the reverse.
- It must be because of your chivalrous soul, you can't help but rescue a young girl in distress.
Lance gave a deep laugh that echoed close to my ear. He then pretended to look for a parchment in front of me and very quickly, I found myself stuck in the space of his arms. The rest of his words echoed even closer.
- It's true, but I think it's only in your presence, that.
He wasn't looking at me as he said those words, focused on a point straight in front of him. I remained frozen in place, I was far too aware of his proximity all around me to dare a movement.
- And so, you felt compelled to help me? It's funny, I knew you rather inclined to serve me more than anything else.
I felt the dragon smile behind my back.
- You're not wrong. But didn't you already tell you that I had changed ?
- Yes. And far too many times for my taste, if you want to know.
His laughter echoed between us once again and I couldn't help but smile too. He eventually found the parchment he was looking for and finally withdrew his arms, allowing me to finally resume my normal breathing.
- You are free tonight ? he asked me as if nothing had happened.
In response, I gave him a dumbfounded look that amused him once again. He was definitely in a good mood today.
- It seems to me that you asked me for help with a certain thing and that I suggest you do that tonight.
*
With a lump in my stomach, I found myself knocking on Lance's bedroom door again at a late hour, preferring to avoid the busy times in the hallway so as not to be surprised. This time, the dragon opened me much faster and moreover, he had taken care to keep some of his armor while still being more comfortable. Without a word, he let me in as if the gesture had already become a habit, and closed behind my back just as eloquently. He moved away from the clapper and briskly walked around me to remove his gloves and place them on his desk.
He seemed to ignore me completely. I waited several seconds but he definitely showed no sign of starting a conversation.
- So like that, you invite a girl to your room and you play the distant guy? I gave him bluntly.
Taken aback, the dragon looked at me with a strange eye, looking amused but also ...
An amused smile was born on his lips.
- You would have more interest in remaining a nice girl and not looking too much for me on this ground, you know. I will not hold back indefinitely, he said, planting his gaze on mine, in which I thought I read some undisguised envy.
Did I understand what he meant ?
My god, I was very hot all of a sudden.
- Lance ...
Seeing that he had managed to confuse me, the dragon seemed to revel in having cornered me. Because if I answered, the slope could become too slippery and we both knew it.
He laughed under his breath before finally changing the subject.
- Do you have any news about your powers ? he asked me.
Relieved, I smiled slightly before rolling up my sleeve and letting the beams of light travel up my arm. I thought I saw an imperceptible admiration appear on his face.
- Their feeling hasn't left me since the other night. It's still very weak, I can barely use it, but they're there, I finished with a hint of pride.
Lance tilted his head, suddenly looking thoughtful.
- It's a very good start. We will already start by focusing on this element before tackling a more complicated one.
- More complicated ?
- Well in my memories, you had a huge pair of wings on your back, he said with a thin smile.
My wings ... it is true that with Leiftan, he was the one who had seen my powers the most at work, in the end. Even though it was clearly not in the best of conditions. Thoughtful, I passed an absent hand between my shoulder blades but unsurprisingly, no trace of wings marked my back.
- It's true, I would love to find them, I said softly.
A memory suddenly came back to me.
- Tell me, the other night when I left your room, something rather strange happened.
- What ? he asked me, suddenly really intrigued.
- Going out into the hallway, I passed a child walking alone. She didn't seem to have noticed my presence. She went to the Crystal Room and when I followed her, she sort of ... disappeared.
Lance seemed to think for a moment.
- It is probably Ophéliai where it comes from, even if some hypothesize...
- That she would have a connection with the Oracle, I continued in his place.
Like every time something intrigued him, he raised one of his eyebrows.
- Indeed. But why are you telling me about it ?
I pursed my lips. I hadn't told anyone what had happened before Leiftan arrived in the room.
- When I entered, I felt a kind of connection between the Crystal and me. My powers absolutely seemed to want to manifest, and I don't know how that protective barrier works, but when my finger went through it...
- Wait, he stopped me, you crossed the barrier ?
I hesitated for a moment. Was it a good idea to confide in him ?
- Yes, at least, I had started to cross it. But the closer I got, the more I felt that my aengel strength was taking over. It was ... powerful.
Lance was silent for a long time, seeming to analyze my words. I clearly didn't like his silence.
- I think it's not for nothing if you saw her that night precisely, he began. You had just reactivated your powers, and if Ophelia really has a connection to the Oracle, it wouldn't be surprising if she sought to get in touch with you. The barrier is an enchanted protective field, normally no one is supposed to be able to cross it, but I guess that last point is not for you.
He paused again before concluding :
- I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but the Oracle seems to try to push you to use them, or at least to find them.
The words of the leader of the Obsidian echoed what I had feared. The Oracle seemed to want to get in touch with me, but for what reason exactly ?
I wondered if Leiftan's presence that evening was really harmless...
- Hopefully I can find them entirely, then. I don't feel that all of these events are heralding anything good.
- Me neither, if you want to know everything, he said in a serious tone. In any event, this proves that the process will have to be speeded up. I also thought about what happened between our respective magics, and I would like to try something else.
Playfully, Lance slowly approached the center of the room. When he reached my height, I was amazed to see ice blue scales appear along his skin. Escaping from the collar of his top, they went up to the bottom of his face, much like when he had marked me with his streaks two days before. His arms and hands also covered, more sparsely, and soon I could see a dragon tail wagging calmly behind his back.
I was totally fascinated by his appearance. I had seen him in his draconian form before, but never that way. Seeing him half transformed in this way reminded me of Tia, his mother, whom I had seen by his side in the memories of his ancestors in Memoria.
As if drawn in spite of myself, I raised a hand and let it slide along the scales that covered the base of his jaw. Rigid and cold, I felt them vibrate slightly under my fingers as his gaze never left me. Lance looked surprised at first, straining under my fingers, but finally let me.
- Do you feel better like that ? I asked him, watching the play of lights reflecting off the blue of his now hardened skin. Tia seemed more comfortable in this form, did you too ?
The dragon did not move a millimeter, but hearing his mother's first name, I saw him swallow his saliva with difficulty.
- I've always been used to showing only my human form, so it's very easy for me to stay that way. But yes, the most comfortable appearance is this, he told me in a deep and low voice, almost ashamed.
I gently pulled my hand away and watched his scales move slightly, as if a shiver ran through him just where my fingers left him.
- They are beautiful, I said, looking up to his.
I saw him swallow again and thought for a moment that he was going to make a move in my direction, but he finally restrained himself and just said :
- I avoid showing myself like that, in general. Normal people don't really feel confident when they learn they are in the presence of a dragon, he argued, his jaws clenched. Moreover for most, this form can seem repulsive.
I was shocked to hear those words. Faeries must be used to seeing creatures of all kinds, so why should the appearance turn them off ?
- I find it anything but repulsive, I felt compelled to tell him. And yet, I have lived much longer on Earth than here.
His features relaxed under my words.
- Dragons are believed to be a long extinct race, and their stories are largely unknown to the people of the lands of Eel. It is therefore not surprising to see them react in a virulent way to something that they thought was gone.
- Maybe, but it's still silly, I said, quite annoyed. Dragons are certainly very large, but certainly not repulsive.
Lance looked at me for a long time before laughing. His gaze suddenly softened.
- I hope I can count on your bravery to kick their buttocks for me, in this case.
I returned his smile sincerely, rocked by this revelation that saddened me for injustice. Because in a way I could understand what he was feeling. How would people react if they saw me walking around with aengel wings on my back ? They would probably be scared too, even if my form was softer than his.
I realized that humans and faeries looked more alike than I thought, the same fear of the unknown marking them indelibly.
- Well, what did you want to try, suddenly ?
His gaze suddenly became serious again, but the weak smile never left him.
- Do you know if you trust me, or still not ?
I hadn't really expected this question. But if I was here now, it had to be a bit like that, right ?
- Let's say I trust you a little more than before, I tell him cautiously.
He nodded in approval.
- I've been doing quite a bit of research on the powers of aengels and dragons since the other night, and there is something I would like to try. But for that, you have to trust me a minimum.
- All right, tell me what to do.
(Chapter 10)
#eldarya fanfic#eldarya new era#eldarya#eldarya lance#eldarya writing#fanfiction#ashkore#lance#i am not your enemy
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Percy Jackson & Rachel Dare - "Liberation" - One-Shot
Summary: A short story for platonic Perachel where Percy and Rachel just talk about their lives.
Word Count: 1273
Read on AO3
Rachel has always found the differences between Camp Half-Blood and the mortal world strange. The camp is an entirely new place, isolated from everything going on the outside.
Snow flurries drift over the outskirts, but somehow, in the looming darkness, the camp is still as soft and warm as ever. It feels only like autumn. It’s unnerving even after so many years of coming to this camp.
She’s lying on the grass, soaking up the last drops of sunlight before the winter takes it away from her. Percy’s to her left, eyes closed, arms behind head, and at the sight of him, a burst of joy blooms in her chest. It’s been so long since the two have actually hung out together.
Rachel sighs and smiles up at the sky, watching the pink give way to purple. “This is nice,” she says. “We haven’t been together in so long.”
Percy doesn’t open his eyes, but his teeth flash as a smile cracks over his lips. “Well, I assume you’ve been enjoying yourself in Paris, mademoiselle. You didn’t miss us that much, admit it.”
Rachel laughs. “Okay, yeah, I love it there. But still. When was the last time we actually hung out alone together? When we were sixteen?” She frowns. “God, that was so long ago. Now we’re eighteen.”
Silence lingers in the air between them for a moment. Rachel closes her eyes, trying to drink the last of the daylight before she and Percy bathe in darkness.
When she opens them again, she realizes that Percy’s cracked open his eyes, two sea-green irises gazing longingly at the sky. He’s looking through his surroundings, though - he’s looking through everything. He’s hurtling into the past, trying to remember what it was like to be young again. Then he turns his head to Rachel. “Where did the time go? I feel like we’ve both grown up so much.” A soft sigh blows from his lips and floats into the air, spreading years of memories and regrets around them. “Now we’re both just… growing up from here. You’re in Paris, having the time of your life with French people, painting it up. I’m in New Rome stressing over school and projects. But I don’t think either of us have ever been so… free from responsibilities.” A wistful smile quirks over his lips. “I like being free. But I miss us, too. I miss the memories I made. The good ones, at least.”
Rachel nods as Percy’s words spill into her. They make sense to her; they spread in her chest and contaminate her blood. She understands him on such a high level. “I feel you. Honestly, the past wasn’t great. Before I met you everything felt so terrifying. I had no idea what I was seeing, what was going on. I thought maybe everything was too much. It never made sense. Then I met you, and I met this world of demigods, and everything just… clicked into place. I understood my purpose in this world. And by no means has my life been the best after that, but… I miss that feeling of realizing I have a purpose. I miss that feeling of understanding that I’m important. Now I’m known for my Oracle powers and people just expect that of me. I know who I am and what I’m supposed to do, but it doesn’t feel as amazing as it used to back then.” This time, it’s Rachel’s turn to sigh. She pulls herself up into a sitting position and gazes across the campgrounds, watching demigods mill about and continue with their daily activities. “I miss that feeling I got back then when I realized I was important. As teenagers we spent so much time wondering where we belonged, what we were supposed to do. Nothing felt better than knowing there was something for me to do at such a young age. I guess what I want is that euphoria again, you know?”
Percy nods, his eyebrows creasing as he thinks. “I want to be excited to save the world. But I don’t want to save the world anymore. I want the feeling of knowing I’m going to do something important.” Now he pulls himself up, too, his eyes roving over the scenery the same way Rachel is. He’s looking at it from a different perspective, thinking back to when he first came here, first discovered who he was. Then Percy turns again to Rachel, tilting his head. “But you know what? Maybe we don’t always have to be doing something. Maybe we don’t always need to be saving the world. We all deserve peace for a little bit in our lives. Maybe it is kind of sad that we don’t have much going on anymore, but… Rachel, I think maybe this is what we need. We may miss the excitement of adventures, but if you think about it, now we have the time to make our own adventures, our own futures, our own destinies. We don’t need to be told what to do by the gods for the time being.”
And he’s right. Rachel still has prophetic visions and whispers of doom in her mind, dreams of death and memories that are centuries old, but she’s realized that for the first time in a while, she hasn’t quite been so free. No immediate dangers ring in her head; no anxieties crawl up into her bed at night.
She’s never felt so liberated.
Rachel’s body hums with a calm energy, a buzz of excitement. Maybe it’s the happiness she feels right now, being next to one of her bestest friends, sitting in front of one of her favorite places in the world. All around her demigods wander about, pursuing their own individual adventures and thinking about their own lives, and Rachel finds that it’s a beautiful sight. No one seems to be in immediate danger; no one is shaking with anxiety. Peace has - for the most part - settled across demigods. They can finally be free and at rest.
Rachel leans her head against Percy, warmth sizzling under her skin. The son of Poseidon flinches at her touch but, after a few seconds, leans his own head against hers. Usually Rachel isn’t all for intimate touching, and she knows that Percy isn’t either (except when it’s with Annabeth), but maybe it’s the heat of the moment that pulls them together for just a little bit. They’re finding comfort in each other.
“I’ve missed you,” she says.
Percy smiles. “You too, Dare. Thanks for being my friend after all these years.”
Rachel grins. “Of course. After all, I wouldn’t have friendzoned you if I wasn’t going to be friends with you, right?”
Percy rolls his eyes. “You’re still on about breaking up with me? Wasn’t it a mutual thing?”
“Maybe, but it feels good to be the heartbreaker.”
A soft laugh echoes from Percy’s chest and he closes his eyes again, leaning a little closer to Rachel. His body heat rolls over her and for this moment right here, Rachel has never felt safer. It’s been so long since she’s been with someone who truly knows her. She’s missed her old friends.
Percy whispers, “Even back then, you always helped me feel free. Thanks for continuing to help me feel free in a world where I’m trapped.”
A smile takes control of Rachel’s lips. “Well, if we’re getting mushy,” she whispers back, “then thank you for helping me find a world where I finally belonged. We helped each other.”
“Thanks for being my friend, Rachel. Really.”
“Always, Percy.” She squeezes his hand. “I’ll always be here for you.”
#my writing#percy jackson#rachel dare#platonic perachel#rick riordan#riordanverse#pjo#hoo#toa#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#trials of apollo#percy jackson fanfic#rachel dare fanfic#percy jackson fic#rachel dare fic#riordanverse fanfic#riordanverse fic
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Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 8
Fandom: DC comics, Batman
Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)
Rating: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away
Other(s) links: AO3
Broken.
The Batfamily was broken.
It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.
Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appeared, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.
If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
Chapter Summary: He's not stupid, he knows what he's about to do is wrong. But finally they have a second chance, and he will do anything to take it. Anything.
Chapter 8
Now
Dick felt at the edge of an abyss.
He wanted to think it wasn’t a bad thing, because that’s how he had been most of his life, on the edge, literally.
He had grown up between spotlights, applauses, circus tents, stunts at great heights, and a foot on the edge to perform something only few could do. Over time, the stage and stairs were replaced by tall buildings, grapple guns, and a dark city to save. His on-stage outfit turned into a uniform to help those in need, and when he had previously expected to jump off a trampoline, now it could be a building, a cliff, or anything that would allow him to jump and fly.
The feeling he always had felt when he was about to jump, that bubbling emotion in his chest that stirred his muscles and altered his entire being, he knew it as well as breathing, enjoyed it, loved it.
However, all those times there was something along the side of the act of jumping that made him feel more secure, loved, capable. Because the Flying Graysons never flew alone, neither Batman and Robin, not even Nightwing when he was in solitary. Dick always had the certainty he wasn’t alone, no matter what or where he would jump, there was always, always someone on the other side, next to him, to grab him. A father, a friend, a brother, a mate, ready to help him if he failed, never to let him go and land together.
This time he didn’t feel that way.
He was at the edge of the precipice with no stairs, no gun, and no one around him. Alone, empty, lost, scared, and terrified of what was down there, but willing to jump regardless of the consequences of the fall. He considered that, in his actual situation, he preferred to risk all he had in that descent into the unknown (don’t sing it Richard, is not the moment) rather than letting go of the second opportunity they had been given.
He didn’t care, he didn’t care to end up sunk and crushed if in the process he got back what he was missing so much right now, when it was time to jump. Those hands, their presences, the guarantee they would be there no matter what, they would catch him, forgive him.
His brothers, any of them.
He didn’t care, he didn’t care at all, didn’t care about anything, he just wants them back. He hadn’t wanted anything more for years after lost them. He would do anything, and had reaffirmed that to himself a thousand times when he ran out of the Watchtower to run into the manor, when he sent as many text as he could to the others so they knew the situation and go there as soon of possible -despite knowing many were going to ignore him as always, an Babs would have to do the job- and also when he convinced Bruce to get the Batplane ready immediately to go where they needed.
He knew from the shine in his eyes that he didn’t even have to tell him that, he was about to do it before he got there. Judging by that and Alfred’s gaze when he showed up at the door, they had received the news even before he set a single foot outside the Watchtower.
Babs had offered to analyze all the images they had and determine the current location of the missing Robins. Not only because no one else would be in a position and state to do so, but because there was a lot, so many. Six years of images had been slammed into Oracle’s powerful systems and appeared so fast before them that Dick nearly passed out. He still was dizzy, even after the trip to the manor, Alfred’s breakfast, and the brief wait for the results.
When they obtained them, it was still only them in the Batcave, no one else had arrived even though they were on the way, but it was so evident they would go to Florida, so much. Because the decision was in the air and the resolution was palpable since the first picture had appeared on the Batcomputer’s screen. To think someone would disagree was crazy.
Alfred retired to the manor to cook and receive the others, and Bruce went to the Batplane again, both wanted to be distracted during the agonizing wait. He was about to follow him, before a small voice in his head reminded him it wasn’t a good idea. No matter how much the situation changed that morning, the tension between them was still a double-edged knife ready to cut them at any time, and see how Bruce entered the coordinates in the plane or studied the map of the small town they’re going to find the others it wasn’t going to be a good distraction.
Actually, nothing would be, he couldn’t lie to himself about that. All the feelings Dick had with him right now couldn’t be easily suppressed. Not after this, not having an actual photo of them in front of him, knowing they would be looking for them in a few hours or less. He had to get away from the batcomputer, rush to another part of the cave just to think, feel and not to fall back into the void with nowhere to hold onto. Relief, happiness, euphoria, comfort, concern, impatience, all flooded him and pushed more and more towards the edge, and he didn’t even care, nor did he want to stop it.
After all, he would soon be seeing his brothers. Was there anything more important than that? Clearly not.
Now, Dick wasn’t stupid. Many thought the opposite, that he was naïve and too positive for his own good. Rather than that, he knew how to have his feet on the ground when he should. But there were just times he didn’t want to, like this one, for example.
He would like to say he was divided, in conflict, but it wasn’t true. Most of him was excited, agitated, and just a step away from taking the batplane alone to go where he knew Tim and Jason were. And the other part of him totally silenced and ignored due to the other, had a negligible will to reason and think about this and about how wasn’t going to end well.
Going there wasn’t going to make anything better, Tim and Jason didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to know anything from them, much less about him, especially about him. And if his disappearance along with the following years hadn’t been an indicator of that, only had to look carefully at the photos Oracle had sent.
The way they were together, walking around, smiling, and going into those places of the small town in a relaxed way. It is obvious they had another life now, different, and far from them, it was easy to see. If they weren’t involved, it was because they had wanted in that way and going there was only another way to make them want to run away again. Maybe they didn’t even let them talk, maybe they would just fight and flee when they saw them, without giving them a chance to say anything.
What was he going to say anyway? “Hi guys, how you doing? I know you ran away because I wanted to ruin your life, forgive me? Yes? Cool! Let’s go back and pretend nothing happened!”
No. It was crazy.
Everything was crazy and despite knowing it was, and it was wrong to chase them like that, they were going to do it either way. Because six years, six years, Dick has spent six years without seeing them, without knowing anything from them. 6 years, 72 months and 2191 days knowing they hate him, they ran away from him, they will not be able to forgive the horrible things he did.
He can’t take it anymore. He can’t. When he close his eyes he hear the screams in the cave, when he have nightmares he sees blood on the ground and his hands, he sees Tim crying, Damian being terrified of him, Jason at his feet, Bruce yelling “What have you done? Why?”. It was an accident, please, it was an accident.
He yearns, he needs to see them, to know they are okay and to beg for their forgiveness. He needs it like breathing, literally, because Dick has the impression, he had been holding his breath for six years and now, at this moment, he feels he’s letting himself breathe a little. But it won’t be until he see them, until he talk to them, until Jason says him “I forgive you” that he won’t be able to get rid of the weight he has been carrying since that day.
That’s why he shut up his rational part with everything he had, ignoring how this told him that more than forgiveness, Jason would punch him, and he might make Tim cry again with the fact that they couldn’t let them go. But he ignored it, ignored everything, and simply retraced his steps and went back to the batcomputer to check the coordinates again and find out if Oracle had given them new information.
When he went there, he didn’t expect to see Damian arrive, nor to witness from the distance how he approached the keyboard with his head down, determined to do something until he looked up and saw those photos. Dick could see how the last Robin’s firm posture dissipated in an instant to stand there, astonished at the sight.
He couldn’t blame him, it had taken him even harder to react properly after witnessing that moment with Babs, and if he had made sure it wasn’t a dream it was because he had scratched himself with the remains of the cups he dropped on the floor in his surprise.
Damian hadn’t moved an inch when he reached him. He just kept staring at the screen until he spoke, assuring him that those pictures were real, it was true, they had found them, would go after them, it was happening, it was not a dream.
Being able to tell him all that made him almost breathe again, feeling that he had stuck his head out of that well where he had been drowning for so long. And even though seeing Damian cry caused him anguish, -because his little, precious brother, whom he disappointed and failed, didn’t cry so easily- it was okay. Because he was almost sure from the way he cried silently, almost without realizing he was doing it and looking at him surprised as if Dick has given him the best news of his life, it was because he was happy, relieved. He should be, because Dick was, he wouldn’t be surprised if he starts crying too.
Because they would be together again, all the family, everything would be okay, it was fine, it was fine.
“No.”
Until it wasn’t.
Dick looked at Damian warily, recognizing the stiff, severe tone he used. Even when the younger was just wiping away the tears with his sleeve, he could perceive the way he had recovered from the initial surprise and was beginning to build walls, defenses around him, one after another as he breathed deeply and gave him a fierce and determined gaze.
For him, it was almost yesterday when Damian was so small, he didn’t even reach his hips, when he gave him that same gaze, but loaded with hatred and sadness. He accepted him as his little brother so quickly, enjoyed teaching him so much, teaching him that it was good to feel, to mourn, that his sadness was not a sign of weakness. However, now when that sadness had turned into complete mistrust and resentment towards him, he felt like how need to go looking for the other two grew more and more, because if he got them back, would Damian forgive him too? Could he get all his brothers back at once?
“Where’s Bruce?” The younger asked breaking the brief silence after his refusal.
Dick tried to ignore the brief prick of grief produced by the knowledge that he no longer called him “father”. Although, well, it’s not like he earned that right. He also didn’t deserve to be called anything other than “Grayson”. With a sigh, he pointed to the hangar.
“He’s with the batplane.”
Damian didn’t seem to be agitated by that simple and obvious answer, at least externally, but from his gaze, he knew he didn’t like that at all.
“Stop him.” He declared loudly, angry.
“What? Why?” Richard asked, more confused than ever, a bad feeling beginning to flood him.
“Nobody’s going to Florida.”
Dick knew he was looking at him like he was completely crazy, didn’t try to hide it either. Of all the things he had thought would surprise him today, this wasn’t one of them, because he never had thought anyone would refuse to go see Tim and Jason, let alone Damian.
“What?” He asked again, wondering if this was some type of joke.
“You can’t go to Florida.” Damian repeated, irritation tinting his voice. “I’m not going to allow it.”
“D-Damian, what are you talking about?” Now, he was feeling the impotence invade him, he didn’t understand it. “We have to find them.”
“No, you won’t.”
“What-?” He spluttered, astonished. The other didn’t seem to mind, just stood firmly, and crossed his arms over his chest, without hesitation. “What’s this?”
“You’re not that stupid, Grayson.”
The last thing was said in a tone that radiated complete disappointment, it was like a direct blow to his face, which left him quiet for a few seconds and then felt the anger and helplessness increased. What the hell was wrong with him? Of course he wasn’t stupid, of course he knew it was wrong, that Tim and Jason didn’t want them there, and Damian did it too, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything, he knew and ignored it because he needed to do this, he should do it desperately from the day he spilled blood on his hands.
He thought Damian didn’t do it either, seeing how these last years he hasn’t been able to look at him. He understood it, he hated him for what he had done, and had every right to do it, but he seemed to be in constant mourning and so he thought he would be the first to want to get on the plane. Finding out he was wrong did nothing to help his already stunted emotional stability.
“We have to go, Damian.” He declared confidently, crossing his arms as well. He wasn’t going to change his mind, he couldn’t.
“No.” The other replied in the same tone. “I won’t allow it.”
“Why?” He asked, frustrated.
“Are you really asking me that?”
“Yes!” He said confused. “I thought you would be the first to want to go, that you would be happy to know where they are.”
“Well, you’re wrong.” Damian snapped. “What do you exactly expect with all this?”
“Fix it, of course.” He replied convinced. It was more than obvious, right? “Talk with them…”
“And you think it will turn out well?”
“Yes!”
“And then? What? Will you force them to return to Gotham?” He said looking at him again in that mix of disappointment and anger that tore him so much inside. “It won’t work and it’s crazy.”
Coming from him, who two days or less ago had been involved in an explosion because he couldn’t bear the anniversary of the disappearance, it was a lot. He knew it, but…
“It’s Tim and Jason!”
“I know that! That’s why!” Damian exclaimed, looking frustrated at the situation. “For God’s sake, look at them!”
Damian turned and pointed at the photos displayed on the Batcomputer’s screen. Those where Jason was laughing, Tim seemed to have slept more than two hours, where both had grown up and were more adult, more mature, different, happy.
He had to look away.
“They will listen to us.” He didn’t know if he was saying that to convince Damian or himself.
“They won’t.” The younger refuted instantly as he turned again to look at him, more frustrated than ever. “Don’t you see?”
“They will!” He insisted. “We will give them no choice, and then we will fix everything.”
“Grayson, they don’t want to see you!”
That hurt. Because it was true. Dick was so ashamed of it he didn’t even know what to do with himself.
“I don’t care.” He said shaking his head.
Damian’s anger and frustration grew in him so fast that could be seen for miles, he knew it was because he refused to admit the reality, surely along with the fact that Damian couldn’t assimilate the whole discovery at once. But he had no choice, he was so upset, so nervous, so desperate that Damian opposing him didn’t help him at all. Only confused and disturbed him, because how could he refuse? It was something beyond his understanding.
“That’s the problem.” Damian began to scold him; it was incredible he was the older and despite that his little brother had to make him reason. “They don’t want to see anyone, the said goodbye and ran away, and you want to believe this plan would fix something? You’re hunting them.”
“They had given us no choice.” The most spiteful part of him told him that if Jason and Tim loved him, loved them, at least a little, they must have missed them, he was sure. And thanks to that the plan could work, they would listen to them, they would not run away when they saw them.
“That’s bullshit!” The younger said. “You sound like him.”
He knew that, also knew that very well. He sounded just as paranoid and stubborn as Bruce when he invaded anyone’s privacy under the excuse of overprotection or security. But Dick just shook his head and denied it, denied everything, didn’t want’ to admit it.
“Damian, it’s been six years!” He exclaimed, as if that were enough to support his decisions.
“That doesn’t change anyth-”
“We are their family; they can’t stay mad at us after so long.” Never in his life had a fight lasted this long, not even when he wanted to get away from Bruce’s shadow.
“Can you stop lying to yourself for five fucking seconds?!” Damian yelled at him, losing his temper.
That made him shudder, because curiously, that angry and weary yell had reminded him the same one Damian let out to stop the other fight years ago, that night when everything changed.
Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t know if he wanted to. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to convince Damian to go and meet Tim and Jason, as much as they knew it was wrong, they had to go, but the younger still refused. At this point, neither wanted to surrender, and knowing them, along with how their emotions are shaking them, they might really end up fighting for real.
“Look at them!” Damian exclaimed again as he pointed at the screen. “Grayson, please, look at them!”
He finally did, breathing heavily and totally in conflict. Damian’s words sinking him deeper and deeper. Of course it wasn’t that easy. Everything was not going to fix with a single talk. He was already very aware the disappearance of those two didn’t happen only due to a discussion about the nature of their relationship, no, that was the straw that broke the glass after an accumulation of years of conflict, fights and negligence by some of them, including him. To say Tim and Jason were family, that they would welcome them with open arms for it, was selfish and wrong. They didn’t feel part of the family for a long time, didn’t seem them as one because they were wrong in making them feel like one.
But he couldn’t admit that, he couldn’t. He really wanted to think they would get there, talk about the latest fight, and it would work out without having to talk about the years before, about how he broke Tim’s trust or misjudged Jason. No.
“When was the last time you saw Drake smiling?” Damian asked seriously, without even let him take a breath. “And Todd?”
Long ago. And it hurts, it burns inside. It was his fault, his fault, he would do anything to see them smile again. Everyone, Tim, Damian, Jason, Stephanie, Cass, he wanted to see them smile for real. He missed them so much.
“They left for a reason and here you are, planning to screw it up.” The younger pointed to him and even without looking into his eyes, he knew he was judging him. “What do you expect to happen? Do you really think they want to come back here?”
Yes. Yes. That’s what he wanted, they back in Gotham, with them, together again. But he couldn’t have that, it was too late.
“I have to go, Dami.” He ended up saying with a shaky sigh.
Damian couldn’t understand it, didn’t know what it was like to carry so much guilt, so much pain in him. But he didn’t want him to know it either.
“You won’t.” The other ordered again, angrier if he could.
“Damian, please.”
“You. Won’t. None of you!”
“You can’t decide that.” As much angry he was, Dick wasn’t the only one who planned to do this, he couldn’t stop or convince everyone.
“I have more rights than you to do it!”
That caused another prick -like a stab- in his chest, one that nearly took his breath away. He had to force himself to relax in order to think again, not drown anymore. Dick turned his head for a second, so he didn’t have to look at Damian, angry and disappointed in front of him, and be able to calm down. During that, he caught a familiar shadow hiding in the cave’s darkness, silent and deadly. Cass had arrived, but didn’t seem to want to intrude, just looking and analyzing as usual, waiting to intervene when was necessary. Grayson sighed and turned back to his brother, annoyed.
“That’s what you think?” Richard asked, trying not to sound hurt, which he didn’t know if he could hide at this point.
“You don’t?” Damian asked in response fiercely. “Tell me, whose fault is all this?”
“Stop.” He ordered instantly. He didn’t need this, not now.
“Why? Don’t you like truth being told at your face?” The other attacked again, with cruel sarcasm. “You had no problem doing that to Jason that night.”
“You’re going too far.” He warned. It’s not as if it was new for him, to someone saying something like that, six years was time enough for many fights like this after all. But he had never had it with Damian, mostly because to fight first they would have to talk, and it was very sad to realize this was the longest conversation they had in a long time.
“Am I?” Damian exclaimed then, looking genuinely stunned. “I’m not the one who plans to hunt down his brothers after trying to kill them and ruin all their effort to hide!”
“Their effort to hide?!” Dick asked shocked, eyes wide open. What the fuck? “How can you care about that?!”
Again, Damian’s anger seemed to grow like waves, threatening to swallow him every time he said something he didn’t like.
“Todd was right, you’re a selfish shit!” He yelled at him suddenly, even more pissed off if possible. “You always hide yourself saying that you do it for the family, but you only think about yourself and do what you want! You don’t care about ruin everything!”
What?
What?
Damian didn’t seem to notice the slip, whether or not what he was saying made sense, just looked at him with anger. Frustrated because he couldn’t make him reason. Dick knew that teaching Damian to accept and control his emotions was one thing but being aware that was one of his biggest flaws was another, and his temperament along with a sharp tongue is his undoing once he lost his temper.
Now, nervous and shaken, he had let out something that sounded more suspicious than he wanted, and the slip that he was worried about the other’s efforts to hide being in vain now made Dick’s heart race and he stopped to look at his brother closely, a small suspicion growing in his mind.
“That’s not true!” He answered again, this time paying more attention. “I just want to see them.”
“You’re not even going to come close.”
“You can’t avoid that!” Dick tried to explain. It was already useless, even if he convinced him now, they had already found them anyway, disabled the system was hiding them. They knew their location and couldn’t hide anymore; it was matter of time they ended up having them face to face.
“Watch me!”
“I can’t understand you!” He ended up saying, without believing they were having this discussion. “Why don’t you want to take this opportunity? We have been looking them for years!”
“We shouldn’t have the opportunity, to begin with.” Damian replied shaking his head. “I can’t let you go there.”
Damian’s stance didn’t waver, at least from his point of view he was still as firm as when they started arguing. However, the slight, almost imperceptible miscalculated footstep he managed to hear behind him, made him know Cass had seen something in Damian that made her fail, or at least try to warn him there was something he wasn’t perceiving, that he was letting go.
“I’m not going to change my mind.” He clarified again with all the firmness he could muster, which wasn’t much considering he felt everything falling apart.
“Neither do I.” Damian said.
“Why?” He had to ask it, confused. “What’s wrong? Why does this matter so much to you, Damian?”
The last Robin didn’t say anything, seemingly determined. But there was something weird, something wrong, everything seemed to indicate it. In the meaningless sentences, Cass’s reaction, and Dick’s instinct screaming at him to know more.
“Don’t you miss them?” Richard asked reproachfully, trying to use another strategy.
It seemed to work because the little temper Damian had seemed to tremble. Maybe it wasn’t where he had to aim, but if he pressed the right buttons, he might find something, even if he didn’t, maybe could convince him.
“Shut up.” The younger ordered with a grunt.
“I know you do.” He continued, ignoring him. Although that wasn’t a lie, Damian missing Tim and Jason was no secret to anyone at this point. “Me too, so much, that’s why I need to do this, I need to see them, why don’t you?”
“Shut. Up.” Damian ordered again, beginning to hiss like a cat when they felt the need to defend themselves.
“Do you feel that guilty?” Dick asked almost worried, even though he knew he was crossing a line he shouldn’t. Well, Damian crossed one earlier too.
“Shut up!”
“It’s because of your past?” He asked again, looking at how he stirred, like lava from a volcano before exploding. “They’ve forgiven you, will do it again!”
“Grayson, shut up! Now!” Again, that scream went wild, his walls and control had fallen completely.
“If you help us it will be easier to get them back!”
He knew asking him that, when he was fiercely against both looking for them and get them return to Gotham, would be too much.
It was, because Damian didn’t even seem to breathe or think about what he was going to say next before his jade eyes shined with fury and completely exploded screaming at the top of his lungs.
“How dare you ask me that?!”
“It’s the best-” Dick tried to explain.
“Don’t! It’s the worst thing you could ever ask me for!”
“Why?!” He asked again, shaken by the other’s explosion.
Why? Why? Why? Why is he like that? Why did he hate him so much? Why he didn’t want to see them? Why he didn’t want to fix this? Why couldn’t he forgive him? Why couldn’t everything be like before? Why? Why?
“Because who do you think helped them to escape?!” Damian shouted. “It was me! Idiot! Open your fucking eyes! It was me! Me!”
Silence.
For Dick, many things suddenly fell into place.
Before he knew it, he had already thrown the first punch.
#myfic#tim drake#jason todd#damian wayne#jon kent#jonathan kent#jaytim#timjay#damijon#jondami#red robin#red hood#superboy#robin#supersons#dc#dc comics#batman#batman comics
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Changeling: The League (2/3)
Being the next installment of my deeply nerdy spur-of-the-moment decision to do up a bunch of My Hero Academia villains as Changeling: The Lost characters. For some introductory info and the League of Villains, check this post. Or hit the jump for the Meta Liberation Army!
THE METAHUMAN LIBERATION ARMY
Considerably reduced from what they are in canon (I don’t think there are 116,000 changelings in Japan, much less that many changeling dissidents!), the leaders of the MLA are instead a band of secret loyalists for the Keeper called Destro, who have spent a great many years preparing for a chance to bring him to the real world in full glory, unhindered by time limits or reduced powers. The requirements are many and arcane, with a huge number of ways things could fall to disarray. Thus they find to their great alarm that their prophecies are suddenly skewing when the truth of Shigaraki’s durance/Keeper comes out--there are two “heirs,” it seems, and fate is swirling, and it will only settle over one of them in the end.
The group has its fingers in some of the more obscure fluff-book magic--fate-crafting, oracular dreams and the like--and collectively share a massively decked-out Hollow.
Re-Destro
Quote: “Everyone has a purpose to serve.”
Type: Gargantuan Ogre/Treasured Fairest dual kith. The incarnation of Destro’s will. Born in Faerie, he spent his early years being instructed (and molded) always--stand up straight, speak more clearly, be stronger, be better, you are the one who will herald me. Re-Destro was delivered out of the Hedge at seven years old clutching a squall knife as long as his arm, his mind filled with the knowledge that he was the one who would see Destro ushered into the real world. He was welcomed, open-armed, by those changelings who had been sent before. He has spent over thirty years in the real world since then, scrupulously maintaining a startlingly high Clarity, but Destro whispers in his dreams more nights than not, and Rikiya (as he was named, though he has a true name his mother whispered against his head as an infant, now long forgotten) has always had the nagging feeling that the mundane Earth is not his true home.
A tall, stiff-shouldered man in his Mask, Rikiya looks much as he does in canon, though without the stress spots on his forehead and with a nose that’s merely prominent, rather than a cartoonishly huge beak. He’s quite tall and can go from mildly unassuming to toweringly imposing on a dime. In mien, his hair goes more coppery and his skin becomes unblemished marble, the palest shade of jade in color, tinging ever so slightly darker around his joints. His nose returns to its canonically proper glory, and the places where his hairline recedes in his mask are revealed to be making room for a pair of broad, curving horns, emerald green at the tips. He’s unusually clean-hewn for an Ogre, not handsome, per se, but undeniably striking. When he uses his kith blessing, he grows to profound sizes (shredding even the most cleverly crafted Hedgespun), easily as tall as a two storey building. Naturally, he tries not to do that kind of thing around mortal witnesses.
Rikiya’s Wyrd is getting quite high (it was high even as a child, as might reasonably be predicted), so particularly sensitive or addled humans will sometimes see or experience fragments of his true form--his unyielding skin, a brief glimpse of the shadow of his horns, the echoing weight of his footsteps on stone floors. His potent Wyrd and his affinity with the home of the Gentry means that his magic sometimes leaks into objects he keeps on his person for too long--it’s an issue he’s aware of, and practically speaking, it mostly means that he never wears anything more than a day in a row. He has a staggering variety of suits and ties.
Court/Mantle: Courtless. With high-ranking friends in a sprawling freehold overseen by Directional Courts, Rikiya makes rounds in all of them. He’s a deft hand with Hedgespun and his works are in high demand at even the most discerning changeling markets. His home is in the center--close to the epicenter, in fact.
Contracts: Barbarically focused, though he uses both of his contracts sparingly. His experience has gone more into his, shall we say, inherent magic.
Vainglory I-V. Even when playing the role of a popular but unranked freehold member, or a canny designer of mundane accessories, Re-Destro has never forgotten who and what he is, and when he’s using these Contracts, that comes out with psyche-bruising force. His higher-tier invocations tend to cause his colors to mottle somewhat, infusing to darker shades of green around his face--the hollows of his eyes particularly--and extremities.
Stone I-V. Unbelievably strong whenever he needs to be. He tries to avoid combat or let his underlings handle it when he can--he has very few problems maintaining his Clarity, but causing harm to others is a surefire way to disturb it--but when he does break these out, he’s as difficult to put down as a berserker. Tends to take relaxing vacations after any occasion where he’s had to really work this.
Curious
Quote: ”You’ve got the look of someone with a story to tell. I want to hear all about it.”
Type: Cleareyes Beast. Once upon a time, she was a journalist with a nose for a story--well, she’s a journalist still, with a nose like you wouldn’t believe. Talented and quick-witted, both traits won her attention from Destro’s “recruiters,” but it was her tenaciousness that finally saw her brought in from the snow and the hunts, a semblance of a human form returned to her, and the bright ambrosia of purpose poured down her throat. Delivered to Re-Destro when he was in his 20s, Chitose is a hunter and a dream-spinner, a trickster with a deft and ruthless touch for talecrafting. She remembers the headiness of blood on her tongue, and she can always smell a bleeding heart.
A fox changeling, though given her bent of viciousness and her unusual coloring, you could be forgiven for thinking her a kumiho or a particularly wicked kitsune. In mien, she has long, thick white hair and a pair of white tails (three in the dreamscape), tipped in black like stained ink brushes, that match her long, tufted ears. Her whole body’s covered in a fine layer of silken fur; she’s got a lupine lengthiness to her features and sharp teeth in her smile. In her mask, her hair’s rich and dark and she seems to have a perpetual healthy glow to her skin, tipping into a noticeably high, intemperate flush when her passions are aroused. A beauty in either form, she has thin, seemingly delicate wrists and ankles, but moves with a quick, decisive grace. Her eyes are blue with just a hint of the green they used to be, the color standing out sharply from the ring of her black eyelashes.
Court/Mantle: The South, seat of ecstasy. Chitose remembers the purity of her emotions in Faerie, remembers heights of euphoria and shocks of terror that stole her breath away, but out in the real world, she feels muted and muffled, never quite fulfilled, as if she’s always groping for an outstretched hand that’s just out of reach. The Court of Song gets her closest to that reckless, all-pervading sensation, and so she throws herself headlong into its giddy pursuit of obsession. Her mantle wraps her in a sensual warmth and, when she’s particularly worked up, wisps of thin white smoke scented like heady incense or burning sugar. Every so often, when her eyes catch the light in a dark room, they reflect red instead of green.
Contracts:
Den I-III. She considers herself to have every right to be wherever she finds herself and is not about to let a home security system stop her when she’s chasing any sort of rabbit.
Dream I-IV. Whether she’s digging for a story or pushing a narrative, dreams are fruitful ground with a multiplicity of uses, none of which she’s squeamish about implementing. Curious is a terror, asleep or awake.
Omen I-III. While she’s not much interested in fortune-telling as a method for long-term strategic planning (you want Skeptic for that), she does absolutely have a use for powers that give her visions of someone’s worst memory or upcoming major life events.
Skeptic
Quote: “Do you have any idea what kind of shitstorm we have coming down on us? What? You can’t see the future? I guess that means you should shut the hell up and stop distracting those of us who have something useful to contribute then, doesn’t it?!”
Type: Oracle Wizened. Destro knew that his followers would need someone who could properly interpret signs and portents, so set his recruiters to finding someone with an eye for secret signs, a knack for the languages of symbolism and metaphor. Most of them brought back psychics or sensitive children, but one particularly old recruiter, for whom “computers” were a new and strange novelty, brought back Tomoyasu. An electronics whiz-kid from a young age, Tomoyasu was in high school at the time, but already doing college prep. He was driven and competitive but, crucially, willing to explain things to people who didn’t understand them. In Faerie, his eyes were opened (forcibly, sometimes with clamps) to a great many more languages and codes, and his competitive personality honed to a vicious edge because you did not want to be a failure, not at any cost.
Now that he’s been sent back to the real world, Skeptic has a presence in many realms. He’s still quite good with computers, of course, but there’s the much more important work of Destro that needs to be done, and that involves both tasks for now and plans laid for later. As such, he maintains dream pledges with a number of psychics (mostly fresh ones, though there are a few shattered survivors from amongst his rivals for his current position). Unlike Curious, he isn’t interested in digging in their dreams or using them as staging grounds for larger projects; he only needs them to help him fill in his understanding of the future. He and Re-Destro do a great measure of the work in maintaining the group Hollow.
Rail-thin and gangly, Skeptic stalks about his environment with a constant sense of bloody-minded productivity. He’s rarely without a laptop or tablet tucked in one arm and wears exclusively black, which just adds to the impression of being The World’s Gothiest Scarecrow. His eyes are always hidden, behind his long bangs, razor-thin sunglasses, or--on more formal Court occasions--a broad silk blindfold, but glimpses of them are always alarmingly bloodshot. In mien, his hands and arms are dotted with tattoos and scarification, faerie glyphs and sigils, and his eyes are filmed with blood. He may not actually have eyelids--certainly no one has ever seen him blink. Usually has a sword or the emblem of one on his person somewhere--a custom of his Court, because the heavens know he’s no swordfighter.
Court/Mantle: The West, seat of honor. Very much a means to an end. Skeptic has little interest in martialtry, but the needs of Destro demand that someone do it, and his obsessive perfectionism and rigidly high standards for himself make him the best fit--and anyway, the Court of War does need strategists. He’s learned how to handle weapons in a perfunctory sort of way, but he’s a much better shot with a rifle than one would expect from the state of his eyes, especially if he’s got some time to spend fidgeting with one for a little bit before he has to fire it. His mantle is relatively low, compared to most of his motley-mates, and manifests as a penetrating chill to the air and a slightly sharper tang of blood-smell than just his red-rimmed eyes can explain.
Contracts:
Animation I-V. You don’t have to waste time learning how to operate anything if the object itself will tell you how to use it, and you don’t have to stand around waving a sword at people when you can have the sword wield itself. “Inanimate” nothing; as a rule, he likes objects better than people.
Artifice I. Object touchy because it’s busted? Nothing a bit of magic can’t fix (at least for long enough to get the job done.
Hours I-IV. The result of Skeptic’s understanding of objects crashing together with his oracular abilities. The time magic he can work on inanimate objects is very useful (and yes, the way Shigaraki warps the first clause of this drives him absolutely mad), but the real miracle is what the ability to control time dilation in the Hedge does for his and his motley’s productivity.
Trumpet
Quote: “I’m sure we’ll succeed. After all, we’re the ones he chose.”
Type: Fairest Muse. The only member of the MLA motley proper that has any ambivalent feelings about The Destro Revival Festival. He’s about Re-Destro’s age, but was kidnapped at a much less tender age than the rest, well into his adulthood. He was an up-and-coming civil servant at the time, then spent longer than he can remember in Faerie, rallying crowds and practicing speeches until his throat bled and cracked into silence, learning to channel some portion of Destro’s white-hot conviction and magnetic presence, for all that being vessel to those traits felt like it burned the soul out of him. Hanabata was charismatic and persuasive while he went in and his time in Faerie amplified those traits beyond belief, but he isn’t so broken as to believe that Destro did him some kind of favor.
He is, however, quite broken enough to believe that Destro is undefeatable and that he has no real choices in the matter. He was returned barely a week after he was taken in real-Earth time, dropped on Re-Destro’s lap when the latter was just getting started in establishing himself. He’s spent the twenty years since then doing whatever needs to be done in order to smooth Re-Destro’s path (he’s unusually prominent in human politics for a changeling; indeed, he’s amassed some fairly significant temporal authority) and watching the rest of his ordained motley grow up. They’re really the only people keeping him going; Hanabata thinks they’re far more damaged than he, and in many ways he’s right--he has a much clearer grasp on what they’ve all lost, even if some of them never had it to begin with--but he’s also very badly hurt in his own way, lacking even the devoted fervor of the cause to fill up the empty spaces left in what used to be his optimism.
His mask looks like the Trumpet of the canon, minus the ever-present sense of pomade and the facial hair that can’t decide if it wants to be a mustache or not; he’s just clean-shaven. He has a wry, expressive mouth and a nearly hypnotic voice, a baritone by turns soothing or rolling. There’s an indefinable sense of presence to him; just looking at him makes brave people want to strike up a conversation and timid people lurk about in vague hopes of leeching up some of his confident vibes. His mien just amplifies it; he’s impossibly magnetic, with strong features and eyes the kind of green you could get lost in. His voice is even more of a marvel here, resonant and penetrating in ways humans couldn’t typically manage without augmentation. When out in public, he wears a camera-ready smile as faithfully as a wedding band; in private, he’s markedly more subdued.
Court/Mantle: The East, seat of envy. Trumpet’s talents make him marvelously well-suited for this Court, but it isn’t just a matter of practicality, as the Court of the West is for Skeptic. No, Trumpet is intimately familiar with the thumbscrew feeling of envy--no free changeling can even begin to grasp how bitterly he covets their ignorance. His mantle can be difficult to pick apart from the gripping presence of his seeming, but when he’s working magic, it’s frequently accompanied by the bizarre sense to onlookers that he’s taller than he really is. Even if someone is standing right next to him and knows perfectly well that they’re taller than him, sometimes they’ll blink and their eyes will lie, vision inverting such that Trumpet seems to be looking down at them. Every so often, when he’s on a roll, his eyes will gleam the perfect yellow-white of the sun reflecting on newly-minted coins.
Contracts:
Vainglory I-III. Not as advanced in his understanding of this Contract as Re-Destro, but the effect is considerably more potent when he’s using it.
Hearth I-V. As engrossing as it is to listen to him talk, Trumpet’s real talent is in inspiring others, and the Contracts of fair and foul fortune just amplify that.
Fleeting Spring I and Fleeting Autumn I. First levels of the seasonal contracts don’t require Seasonal Court goodwill, but he’d probably get it from any Spring Court in the country anyway. Envy is close cousins with Desire, after all. Whichever the case, manipulating people is easier when you know both what they want and what they fear.
Geten
Quote: “Ice is never far away. Prepare yourself.”
Type: Snowskin Elemental. Geten remembers little of their time before Faerie--in fact, they have very little recollection of the passage of any of the time that must have brought them to their current age. Their memory is like one huge block of ice, solid from wall to wall with cold and scarcity. If some of that scarcity, back at the very beginning, is colored in a different palette than Destro’s winter, well, it’s still of a piece with the rest, so what does it matter? All of their life was the winter--until Re-Destro appeared and chose them. Out in the real world, Geten knows, intellectually, about the whole “herald of Destro” thing and devotes themself to the cause with admirable fervor, but in truth, that fervor is far more dedicated to Re-Destro than it is their True Fae Keeper, of whom Geten recalls next to nothing. Generally serious and driven, Geten enjoys feeling that their actions have meaning beyond just keeping them alive, so they’re never happier than when they’re fighting for Re-Destro in concrete, measurable ways. Generally poorly socialized in ways that would make their life much more difficult if they didn’t have Rikiya looking out for them.
In mask, Geten is a slight youth with shoulder-length, white-blonde hair and unusual pale gray eyes. They have a delicate-looking face that’s incongruous with their rather feral personality. In mein, their hair is fully white, as are the glowing pupils of their eyes. Their already fair skin goes bloodlessly pale, and even on the hottest day, their features are kissed with a rime of frost. They wear long sleeved, full-length clothes at all times of the year, though curiously, they dress more heavily in summer than in winter.
Court/Mantle: The North, seat of suffering. Something of an unusual case in their freehold, where the power of the Directional Courts holds sway, Geten emerged from the Hedge with a strong Winter mantle. No matter that they’re sworn to the Armor Court, that raw affinity to the Court of Sorrow remains. This odd duality, seen by some as untrustworthy, has largely kept them from advancing very far despite their apparent dedication to the Stupa’s focused, ascetic lifestyle. They’re frequently mistaken for being courtless, particularly in a freehold that’s less familiar with the look of the Silent Arrow than those who move in Seasonal Court circles would be. The lack of any obvious sign of a mantle is itself the tell--Winter always makes its changelings look more stark, as if somehow etched more clearly into the fabric of the world, unobscured by other connections. Likewise, their magic is all ice-themed anyway, so many don’t realize that the brief gusts of snow around them are a sign of their mantle--but every so often, there will be a brush of pale ash on those winds, a sign that, for all that Winter lives in their bones, Geten has still embraced the North.
Contracts: These speak for themselves. Geten’s power set, more than anyone in these posts, hews closely to canon!Geten’s quirk meta-ability.
Elements (Ice) I-IV. Exacts control over ice. They’re protected from it, they’re protected by it, they control it, and it answers their call (though their range is not anywhere close to canon!Geten’s).
Communion (Ice) I-III. Very unlike canon!Geten, the changeling version is ice-born enough that they speak with it like kin. Ice isn’t much of a gossiper, as elements go, but it reflects things, sometimes, and knows the shape of everything it touches. They can extend this awareness as far out as a mile in most weather, though the range is much shorter in e.g. a blizzard, when trying to take in that much information would be overwhelming.
Eternal Winter I-III. Don’t have ice? Make your own! Again, not as wide-ranging as canon!Geten’s, but serves much the same purpose. Geten can also, like Spinner, perform emergency thermostat duties, though Spinner’s control over heat allows him to turn it up or expel it, while Geten’s is only ever going to make things colder.
BONUS TIDBITS:
Changeling!Re-Destro needs to be able to get around in the human world without being prone to fits of hallucination and delirium, and his magic isn't dependent on his stress levels, so unlike his canon self, he gets to have actual vacation time, do soothing yoga, etc.
Geten and Curious had some durance overlap, but neither of them remember it clearly. Curious’s memories of that time are too patchy, while Geten’s are too hard to pare down into individual moments. Geten does feel a sense of familiarity towards Curious, but they don’t talk about it much after the one time they described it as being, “Like she was...inside me, for a while,” and everyone looked really weirded out.
Changeling!Geten is nonbinary because It’s My AU And I’ll Do What I Want. They are made of ice and do not really understand what the deal is with gender.
Magne doesn’t die in this AU because It’s My AU And I’ll Do What I Want. She and Curious have to team up to brainstorm a strategy for an epic oneiromachy duel with Destro that will decisively eject him from Rikiya’s dreams without reducing Rikiya to a drooling husk.
Trumpet is the true wild card in this AU. The other Destro-ites have never really even considered the prospect of breaking free from Destro; Trumpet has, but rather than that making him the person who’s the easiest to sway, it makes him the person most resolutely convinced that betraying Destro will lead only to suffering. The lengths that conviction will drive him to make him a severe danger to his motley the moment they begin considering abandoning their mission.
#bnha#re-destro#yotsubashi rikiya#bnha curious#kizuki chitose#bnha skeptic#chikazoku tomoyasu#bnha trumpet#hanabata koku#geten#meta liberation army#bnha spoilers#changeling: the league#changeling: the lost#my writing
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“The way is clouded, there is a fog surrounding your desires, the path to your future is subject to change, it’s up to you and you…”
“Victoria! What in Taboo is this? Of all the Tabians, why am I cursed with the most insolent?”
The scent of Lilyrose and lavender did nothing to ease the tension between two very different generations. Victoria came from an ancient line of oracles and royalty, and with each new child their power got stronger. Only Female-born, they alone inherited these coveted abilities. Along with supernatural prowess, their beauty made them all the more desirable, but these were dangerous times in Tabian history.
What year was it again…? Ah, yes, here it is, now that we're on the right page, let us continue. A multitude of illnesses were ravaging Taboo and sickness here wasn’t exactly your run of the mill cough, there wasn’t any syrup or vaccine to fix it. The first arrived after The Fall, which presently was only a short while ago, evil had been consummated with the bed sheets drenched in blood. Each realm invited it in, nefarious entities needed permission, without it they are nothing, impotent.
Siandra of the Sun was blessed by the Triplicate Goddesses, who brought magick to this realm. Born of the birthing trees and fostered in the Netherlands, the Goddess’s bathed their toddler in a river that ran of rainbows and elixirs. As a child, this was the maiden of light’s favorite place in the world.
She reached full maturity within only 12 cycles of sun, she wasn’t human, Sìandra was so much more. She would become the mother and matriarch of Taboo. It is an enormous task to birth one child alone, but an entire population, can you imagine? Through raw, agony she endured until there was enough life capable of sustaining itself. The years following her coronation were full of peace and prosperity, but nothing stays perfect forever.
Twenty years into her reign, all tree-folk caught an unusual malady, around the same time Zotan the Betrayer started to make a name for himself. He was born a corrupt sapling and went on to infect many more, inevitably bringing the demise and imprisonment of the Sky Lovers.
Pulling back soft, obsidian hair, Victoria felt like betraying her gentle nature and giving into the inferno that never subsided. She wasn’t a child anymore, the twelfth month was almost upon them.
“Grandla, I am almost a woman, one more day and I will be! You can’t control me anymore.”
“A child is all you will be until you act otherwise. I am your only living relative and I won't be bound to Taboo forever. Who will save you once I am gone? You are too careless, you know what you are?!”
“I can save myself, I won’t fear the world until I experience it first hand. Tomorrow I will be leaving, I’m sorry Grandla Elena, you know I love you… I just.. I want my own adventure, not the ones from storybooks."
“Well no matter what, if that world you so desperately desire to run to veers too far left, just come home. You are my heart... but with the power of four generations, go in peace.”
_______________________________
Only weeks later, Victoria would receive word that her great Grandla was brutally murdered by some of Zotan's followers, contractors of The Black. The Darkness was already making her way through the crowd, she would leave no survivors. Who could stop her now?
Being a woman after The Fall was complicated and dangerous, especially when you were an Elderspark descendant. Despite this, our young reigning heiress was quite capable of cutting her way through the winding shadows. Once Victoria became the last of her bloodline, her girlish whim faded away.
There’s no one to watch out for me anymore, I’ll have to do it myself now…
It was a lonely existence, danger lurked around every corner and the riots were steadily getting worse.
“Vicki, can you please take my table, I can’t deal with those pigs for one more moment…”
“Sure Nella, go rest awhile, in your condition you shouldn’t strain. That little one might arrive any day now. Here, lie down and drink this, and all you’ll feel is euphoria.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Go on now,” Victoria kissed her friend softly upon her flushed cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating off them.
Poor Nella, so young and soon to be a mother, I worry about that myself.
Being an Elderspark has its advantages, but I worry about the uncertainty of my future.
Elderspark translates in the Tabian tongue as the flame of old, and this line of celestial women would live from one to five hundred years on average, with a slim possibility of many more. Along with heightened and elongated mortality, each fruit fallen from Sìandra’s tree would conceive a female heir, without the influence of man. Unfortunately, once womanhood is reached this could happen at any time.
This wasn’t much comfort for Victoria Elderspark and it was constantly on her mind. In the midst of sorting through a collage of dilemmas, she straightened her stained apron and tried to hide the bust protruding atop the coffee dipped dress, made of shredded bark and plant fiber. The fabric was similar to silky taffeta, but cozy like cotton.
“What can I get for you tonight? In the back we have some berry strudel, I could warm it up if you’re hungry?”
“Mm, I think we’d like to take you out back, our hunger is more of a carnal nature… Ain’t that right boys?”
“That’s right!”
Three men stood hungrily and vile, drool basically foaming from their mouths, dark and ominous they surrounded her.
“See, we took it easy on your little blonde friend, since she's with child, but you're just a ripe little apple. I think I’d like to take a bite…”
Scrambling for an idea, or anyway to defend herself, the tavern door blew open and a frozen gust of snow traipsed in along with a formidable stranger. As the curious, tall figure spoke it was barely legible, almost a growl, “ Let her go, vermin.”
Looking at what the other three scoundrels feared, both of their eyes locked, his eyes were peculiarly beautiful, while hers reflected a deep emerald that ensconced all who fell into them. Something clicked, it was so strong and irrefutable, nothing would ever be the same. As time began to slow, a lovers knot encompassed and secured their souls, binding them for all eternity.
Victoria stood there in a trance as body parts flew in the air and stray blood splatters soaked into her apron and love melted within her heart.
I can’t explain it, but this beast is my soulmate. I won’t fight against it… I can’t.
“My name is Vlad Valentina, will you come with me, better half of my heart?”
“Yes, I will...”
__________________________________
As the oldest Elderspark lied in a pool of her own blood, the small puddle soon became an ocean and she had only minutes left.
“Vlad, take her, bury her deep in the ground, Taboo will keep her safe until it's time for her to be born again.”
“Darling no, I won’t let you die alone, after everything I’ve done, it’s the least I can do.”
“No,” coughing, her last breath was creeping closer as she grew smaller, the final stretch before silence eclipsed, thwarting her onward. “ Consider it a last request. Tony must not know the truth, my love, he must think you killed me, until the time is right. Forgive me for this burden I place upon you.”
“There's nothing to forgive, you've given me everything, sweet Victoria...farewell mon chere…”
Vlad Valentina left his wife to die alone as she wished, and dispatched the newborn girl of prophecy into hiding, away from the real monsters who would tear her apart defenseless or not.
Sleeping soundly, Vlad placed her gently on a heap of foliage in the Woodlands of Yamanì and almost simultaneously several branches moved to swaddle her, a precious star in need of their protection.
“Goodbye my dear Valerie, I will look after you always, although you will not know it. Before I leave you, your mother wanted you to have this.” He placed a locket down into the ground, and Valerie Elderspark faded away until the future songs of destiny and reunion were trumpeted into the blanched sunlight, reviving her once again. The day Sìandra’s true heir returned, a Gathering would be marked, but be warned nothing is ever as it seems, in this Darkening Universe.
#darkening#universe#kz#fantasy#blog series#abstract#artists on tumblr#werewolves#supernatural#dark romance
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Golden Hues | Bokuto Koutaro x F!reader [GreekMyth!AU]
That was incredibly hard to write thank you very much🤡 figuring out how to write a certain character is quite the challenge so today i offer you, offbrand Bokuto in an Ancient Greece setting !
[Songs] : • Towards the sun by Rihanna
• All good people by Delta Rae
[Tags] : @raevaioli @hqxreader
- your whole life has been revolving around the same things, not that you minded them
- you were the oldest daughter of a noble in Greece, and your family was known by the people as being descendants of gods and godesses
- throughout the years you've been taught how to act like someone your rank, how to uphold a position of power even in situations where a woman should't be
- you were grateful for that
- you were taught manners, litterature and arts as well as the art of fighting and that was pretty much it
- war, was not inherantly seen as a bad thing, it was almost like those plays that you often watched when you were a kid
- vast sceneries of warriors blessed by the gods to fight alongside them, defending their beliefs or properties
- at least that's what you thought back then, the reality of war was a whole other thing, and yet the necessity of knowing how to defend yourself against any ennemy was not one to ignore
- fighting wasn't pretty. But it had to be done.
- another reality was the one of the gods, you had witnessed it yourself one faithful day of training with your servants
- a young man carrying a lyre had approached you, seemingly coming out of nowhere
- you were pretty sure that it was Apollo, god of the sun, healing, arts and oracles; patron deity of your family for centuries now
- at the time, he had whispered words that you still managed to remember clearly :
On the horizon of a sacred dawn,
When the sword and arrow cross paths
A union that will make the earth shake all the way to the farthest parthenon, shall rise
And with it the fall of an order.
- a prophecy
- that sounded ominous to say the least but at that moment you had felt something in you that you could only describe as being some sort of repressed euphoria brewing deep somewhere in your mind
- sadly, the prophecy reached the ears of your parents and soon you found yourself trapped in your quarters for the majority of your days
- only going out for classes and eating, your parents having cut down most of your sparring sessions anyways
- your once fullfilling life now reduced to a scheduled routine, the only fun part of it being when you got to hear the stories of your litterature instructor paired with the occasionnal sneaking out during the afternoon or at night
- he felt as if in order to understand the "outside world" better you had to get actual informations on it
- and so he started talking to you about random things he heard during the day
- some days it was just about how the flower merchants closest to the royal grounds had gotten engaged and made a joined business
- other days like today it was about how the people have been effervescent about a certain talented warrior from a neighbouring city
- allegedly, he mained the bow and arrow with an unmatched deadly grace, making his way through entire battlefields in no time, some spread the rumor that he did so while smiling, unbothered and untouched by ennemy attacks
- some speculated that he was a demigod, son of some powerful deity or the reincarnation of Achilles, however one thing was sure is that he took the spotlight everywhere he went
- it would be an understatement to say that you were intrigued
- how was that possible ? Was he really unbeatable ? How was he the same age as you ?
- "well not like you would ever find out", you thought, returning to your room after class
- with the absence of servants on your way your next thought was easy : sneaking out
- it was a habit you picked up
- you went outside from the window for a few hours and came back in as if nothing happened
- and today was one of these days
- so here you were, strutting through the woods trying to find some cool rocks to add to your collection back in your room
- when you heard some kind of rustling sound
- at first you were scared cause what if it was a brown bear ??
- well at least it would make an interesting story if you came out of it alive
- but then you saw a head of white hair peaking out from behind some bushes and a voice saying something close to
- "pspspsps" yep. Definitely not a bear
- "Excuse me ?" you said, trying to get the attention of whoever that was
- the person jumped and judging by the "thud" following, you could only assume that they fell
- going round the bushes, you were meant by a well built looking man with spikey white hair and piercing imperial gold colored eyes looking up at you from the ground
- that....was not something you were used to
- "are you alright ?" you said, helping him up
- " yeah don't worry im fine ! I was just trying to catch this squirrel" he was smiling so bright that it almost blinded you in addition to the sound of your own heart pounding that was making you deaf
- "oh im sorry....did i make it run away ?"
- "well- yes but at least now i get to talk to a pretty girl !"
- oh :0
- and that's how the conversation began
- you learned that his name was Bokuto and that he was a royal guard of a close city, one that was as powerful as your own
- "oh so do you know the rumors about that demigod archer ?"
- "you mean the ones people spread about me ?? You know, im pretty good with a bow and arrow but not to that level haha"
- SO HE WAS THAT PERSON
- you never suspected that you had all those questions for him until you started spewing them out one after another but luckily he seemed to never come short with answers
- you talked for hours until night had fallen and you had to go back to royal grounds before anyone noticed you were gone
- he walked you the whole way back to your bedroom window because he "wanted to protect you" even tho you did this like every other day
- he just wanted to talk to you more
- "goodnight princes-"
- "you can call me Y/N you know ?
- "no princess is cuter ≧◡≦" he was really thankful for the late hour because he really didn't want you to see the blush on his face right now
- "hey Bokuto !" your voice made him turn back faster than light
- "do you want to meet again tomorrow ?"
- of course he wanted to
- and the pattern went on for about a month or so
- you would meet him in the woods outside of royal grounds and you would just talk and have fun with him until night when he would insist on walking you home
- tonight was no different aside from the fact that you stayed a few hours later than usual with him
- at this point you guys were very much in love with each other but also too much of a mess to confess already and you were kind of fed up
- so he was walking you home as per usual and you were leaning against the window frame bidding him your goodbyes as the sun began to rise in the distance
- "goodnight prin-" you cut him off by grabbing his face and kissing him, the shock of your lips against his had caused both of your minds to focus on each other, and there it was
- the same euphoric feeling from that time you heard the prophecy
- so that was it....love
- "goodnight Y/N" he had said when you finally pulled away, not needing to add anything more to it as you already knew how you felt about one another
- that day you fell asleep with dreams about spending your future with Bokuto, the dorky demigod warrior who had stolen your heart
- except all dreams must come to an end
- the next day your parents had informed you about an incoming war with another city....his city
- after all those years of peace and unity why now of all times ?
- "the fall of an order" this line of the prophecy echoed in your head as you sat on the floor of your room
- you couldn't help but ask yourself if somehow this was one of the gods' jokes
- if this was your fault
- would that mean that now Bokuto would resent you ?
- you heard a soft knock on your window, you already knew who it was and you went to open it, hesitant and scared of what was next to come for the both of you
- " Y/N you're here !" he beamed, staying true to himself even now
- "Bokuto have you no knowledge of what is happening ? Our cities are-"
- "on the edge of war ? I know that and that's why i came"
- "to say goodbye" you thought, already bracing yourself for the heartbreak
- "to ask you to run away with me !"
- you looked at him in shock and he just responded by smiling as if nothing about that statement scared him, as if nothing in this world could make his golden eyes loose their oh so familiar shine
- in this moment you understood that he really was something else, a sun amongst mortals, and a song in the darkest times of your own life, a light in the battlefield.
- not hearing any response from you, he held your hands together between his warm ones, confidence unwavering as he locked eyes with you and spoke,
- "We don't have to ever be appart, must the skies and gods themselves threathen us as much as they want, i'll never let it happen. We shall stay together and brave the odds and Fate herself. With Apollo's blessing, we'll make even Aphrodite and Ares jealous."
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu au#hq#hq!! fic#hq!! headcanons#hq x reader#Bokuto Koutaro#bokuto x reader#fukurodani#bokuto koutaro x reader
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Hellou luv,
Been reading ur stuff and 10/10, can you like read me? In any way I love everything so whatever u can do, I’ve been just getting tower moments over and over but now I’m more at peace but I can’t sleep which is weird I can always sleep and been getting some dreams and thoughts from some close people and boom they are true!! Or I just feel it and I know what they going through.
Whatever you can do is appreciated lil soul, here I give you a nice song as a thank u 👹 umm yeah wink wink
hi !! <3 i love ur energy so much ty awe
cards that came out (iris oracle deck): healing through rest, gifts to the portal, dream travel, the all knower, the gallery of those who came before, your dreams are closer than you think, a fearful world, repopulation, the heart eater
i dont know why but i feel like you may have some energy vampires around in your life- people who drain you, always emotionally dump or mistreat you. maybe its your family tbh too. im getting a male energy that is cruel and yells. i dont know if that resonates or not. if it doesnt, then i think your guides are advocating you to protect your energy from people. you might freely give it away (because you are very loving !) but then these people leave you high and dry? like you are always so loving, kind, and patient to them and the dont return that. or just people who depend on you too much maybe. i think you soak up energy like a sponge- in my heart, i felt a twang of anxiety and exhaustion. also of fear. you might allow fear to rest in your heart- do you have social anxiety? your guides might be saying that this overthinking isnt doing you well. honestly i do too so i understand this feeling you are having. or maybe other people trauma dump on you a lot- your energy is so open, loving, and receptive and your guides want you to protect that precious source more. this will help realign you more- because these people are literally draining you and this scatters your energy ?? like you feel very drained, exhausted, anxious, its hard to focus. i felt so shakey
the card 'healing through rest' was really important- you need to learn to calm your energy more. stop giving into fear- replace that fear with love in your heart. your guides want you to rest, sleep more, etc. but in order to solve your sleeping problems, there might be certain things to cut out in your day? like maybe less caffeine, i also saw a dark room- and i felt utter peace lying in bed in the dark. i think meditating before sleeping could help- minimize screen time before bed (i heard that from your guides haha)
overall, your energy is currently being so drained by outside forces, that your inner world feels like its in chaos as a reflection of that. i think your energy just needs to be healed and protected right now- again, meditation, more sleep, calming yourself. setting boundaries with other people or cutting off bad influences because oddly enough those negative energies might lowkey be manifesting themselves- like a cycle feeding off itself. but remember- you are always in control. your guides are showing me the psychic energy you have? you could probably communicate with them very easily i feel like. your energy is actually one of the most psychic energies ive seen in a while- you have a veryyy potent psychic force within you, its just blocked right now. but your aura was a dark blue and your guides want to communicate with you? I felt a sensation in my heart- once your energy gets in a calm state, i could totally see you being able to tap into your intuition and see daydreams / dreams with psychic content in it? thats a very specific visual i got. i think you receive a lot of psychic downloads because you do have a sensitive energy (a lot of people on this blog also have sensitive energies so i do say that for a lot of people lol but your energy was veryyy sensitive and a little unaligned and struggling with that and your guides want you to take care of yourself, remove this negativity, relax, and then manifest more goodness and serenity in your life <3)
i hope this could help i know it was super heavy !
#tarot card readings#tarot card reading#intuition#tarot#tarot reading#intuitive readings#tarot cards#witchblr#astrology#tarotblr
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