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#went wrong w the summoning. and with the rest of the bats helping out in gotham and around the east coast
luxaofhesperides · 4 months
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Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!
Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.
He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.
What Duke gets instead isn’t even words. 
Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.
“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”
He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.
“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,
Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”
Jason looks him over critically, then nods. 
Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing. 
This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.
He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.
For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.
He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.
And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.
Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white. 
Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.
Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.
Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws. 
The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all. 
The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope. 
“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.
Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”
Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”
“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”
“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”
“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.
“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”
Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”
Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room. 
“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”
Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others. 
Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.
Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape. 
Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.
The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic. 
His left hipbone burns.
Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.
The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.
And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.
“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.
“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”
The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”
“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”
“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”
The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room. 
“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.
He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.
“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”
“You—what?”
“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.
Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances. 
“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”
“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”
Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”
“And you dreamed of me.”
“I did.”
“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”
“Okay.”
“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”
“I’ll help,” Phantom says.
“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”
“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”
Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”
“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”
“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”
“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”
There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.
Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.
“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”
“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”
Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”
“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again. 
“Let’s go find them, then!”
They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together. 
The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now. 
He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.
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A Prince’s Room
Part 2
Concept by @yeet-ceit
TW: Unsympathetic Sides (Except for Roman), Perfectionism, Self-Doubt, Cursing, Arguing, Injury? (Roman gets slapped). If I missed any, pleased tell me and I will add it.
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1807
Roman wants to be perfect. No, he needs to be perfect. And part of being perfect is being a good friend. Roman loves the other sides. He loves them more than anything in the world. Even more than Disney and musical theater. His friends are the main reason why his still holding on. He doesn’t want to lose them. He can’t lose them. He won’t survive if he does.
So, to make sure he doesn’t he takes notes. He writes down ways to make sure he’s constantly improving. Any bad habits that the others point out or flaws he writes down and tries to fix. 
The lists went on and on. Hung up on the walls of his room to make sure he always remembers. And as time goes on, more and more is added to the list. Every small addition getting him one step closer to perfection.
Remember to keep your voice level normal. Don’t talk too loudly.
Stop being so dramatic, you're taking too much attention away from the others.
Don’t be too confident, it comes off as cocky and no one like someone that’s too cocky.
Don’t rant about your interest for too long it gets annoying and boring.
Don’t be selfish, no one likes a selfish person.
....................
The chart came along a few months later. 
Roman had already been taking notes on how to please his friends however he decided to reorganize his notes into a chart. Each side had their own section containing list of what they liked, disliked, what cheered them up, and what upsets them.
Logan
Likes: Crofters, astrology, coffee, books, teaching, silence, human anatomy, schedules, deadlines, Thomas being productive, debating, constellations, being listened to, law, learning, classical music, poetry, Sherlock.
Dislikes: Being ignored, unnecessary emotions, sweets, dumb people, someone being too loud, childish movies, games, being behind schedule, illogical decisions, jokes, unrealistic dreams.
What makes him happy?: Stargazing, writing, meeting deadlines, winning debates, telling random facts, rapping, his onesie, reading, being left alone, being called cool, teaching.
What upsets him?: Being treated as a joke, being teased, being reminded of his mistakes, making mistakes, being ignored or overlooked, losing a debate, feeling dumb.
Patton
Likes: Cookies, drawing, cure animals, compliments, happy songs, seeing his friends happy, t.v shows, helping others, singing, dancing, playing dress up, stuffed animals, gifts, holidays, baking, sweets.
Dislikes: Screaming, loud noises, getting stuff thrown at him, blood, weapons, violence, seeing his friends injured, sad movies and stories.
What makes him happy?: Cuddles, movie nights, being showered with affection, cookies, drawing, karaoke nights, talking about his emotions, playing games with his friends, helping others, his onesie. 
What upsets him?: Seeing an animal die, seeing people in pain, being forced to grow up, seeing his friends in hurt, not being able to help someone, disappointing someone, letting Thomas down, letting his emotions control him.
Virgil
Likes: Candles, alternative music, spiders, his hoodie, Tim Burton films, My Chemical Romance, headphones, fidget cubes, staying up late, drama shows, bats, knives, collecting pins.  
Dislikes: The ocean, sudden loud noises, cheesy pop music, people that are too optimistic (except for Patton), someone being mean to his friends,
What makes him happy?: Doing makeup, painting his nails, listening to music, Patton’s baking, playing with his pet spider, meditating, watching murder myterious, watching Disney and Tim Burton movies.
What upsets him?: Being put on the spot, being called evil, being treated like an innocent kid, being called a darkside, being called a disorder rejection, talk about serious topics such as suicide and self harm. 
Remus
Likes: Gore, blood, mud, fighting, collecting weapons, deodorant, musicals, inappropriate jokes, Fleischer Studios, pranks, dancing, mythical creatures, things that glow in the dark, random t.v shows, horror movie, slime, candy, octopus, skirts, crop tops.
Dislikes: Cheesy love songs, rules, normal food aside from fast food, birds, learning, shaving, reading, romance movies/shows, backstabbers, lying, shaving cream, showers, losing fights.
What makes him happy?: Dissecting stuff, fighting, pranking others, dancing, singing, coming up with outfit ideas, punching stuff, playing with slime, reenacting horror movies, inappropriate jokes, hanging out in his trash can, being pet, Shrek, eating deodorant, someone doing his makeup.
What upsets him?: Being abandoned or left behind, being told he isn’t good enough, being compared to me, seeing Janus upset, seeing Virgil upset, being told to shave.
Janus
Like: Snakes, philosophy, Greek mythology, sewing, horror movies, mystery books, murder documentaries, self care, sleeping, warm baths, weighted blankets, debating, law.
Dislikes: The cold, when someone takes his hat, dumb comedy movies, eagles, action movies, unnecessary violence or gore, close minded people, liars, sharing secrets, being vulnerable. 
What makes hims happy?: Massages, weighted blankets, cuddling, hanging out with Remus, acting, having debates, seeing Remus and Virgil playfully argue, watching murder mysteries, singing.
What upsets him?: Being called evil, being ignored, seeing Remus or Virgil upset, Thomas not taking care of himself, being replaced, being left behind, people not understanding him, someone making fun of his scales, taking off his gloves.
....................
“Come on pussy! Let’s just march into his room, what’s the worse that could happen?”
“Language!” Patton quickly scolds Remus.
“What if he’s in there and he screams at us for barging in?! What if he gets really mad and chooses to get physical!? What if we see something we don’t want to!? What if he’s asleep and he get mad that we woke him up!? What if-”
“Virgil,” Logan interrupts the panicking side, “Your anxiety is causing you to catastrophize. Please, take a deep breath and try to filter out your cognitive distortion.”
The anxious side nods and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.
“Now, I would like to add that I personally believe that Remus’ plan isn’t the worst idea ever and is currently the best one we have.” The logical side states.
“Well, while I love to agree with Remus, he is wrong in this instance,” 
Remus smirks widely, “Awe! Thanks Jany~ You’re too generous~”
The deceitful side rolls his eyes, “Let’s just go.”
“Fine,” Virgil stands up, looking rather done with everything.
The rest of the sides stand up as well and begin to make their way to the prince’s room.
Once they make it to his door, Remus immediately just breaks the door down and lets himself in.
“Surprise!”
 They walk in, greeted only by silence.
“He isn’t here?” Patton mumbles to himself.
“Doesn’t look like it. Let’s not go then.”
The other sides nod and start making their way out. Well, everyone except for Logan. 
The logical side instead gets distracted by a paper stabled to the wall. He walks over to it and reads it to himself. Once he’s done reading his looks around the room and notices all the papers on the wall. As well, as the lack of theater and Disney merchandise.
“Wait, doesn't Roman’s room look,” He pauses to search for the right words, “Wrong?”
The other sides stop walking and looks around.
“Now that you mention it,” Remus mumbles, “His room has changed a lot since I last saw it...”
The other start reading through the endless papers of tips to improve himself and advice. 
Suddenly Patton stops in front of a chart titled “Duties”
He slowly goes over it and buy the time he is done he is fuming with rage.
“What the hell!? Guys come look at this!”
The others go over, slightly amused and concerned.
Each of them take turns analyzing the chart. 
Roman had spend his day at the Imagination. After the whole wedding accident, he’s been stuck in a very toxic place and well he thought a small guest might help. So, he left early in the morning and began his guest. He hadn’t meant to stay there for as long as he did but he lost track of time. 
“Kiddo, we have a lot to talk about,” Patton mumbles in a passive aggressive tone.
....................
As the tired side starts approaching his room, he notices that all the either sides are gathered outside his room. Once he’s a bit closer, Virgil is the first to notice him. To his shock though, Virgil rushes to him and slaps him
“Roman, what the fuck!?”
Roman stands there shocked for a few minutes before looking at Patton, expecting to hear him scold Virgil. Instead however, Patton just look away from him.
“ANSWER ME!”
“I-...” Roman bites his lip to hold back the tears in his eyes, “I-I don’t understand... W-what did I do....?”
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!?”
The prince-like-side flinches and looks down.
Remus puts a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, "Let me handle this.”
For some reason, Roman thought that Remus would be on his side. He thought that if anyone understood what he was trying to do, it would be his brother. Or that his brother would at least explain what happened and let him tell his part of the story.
So, he looked up with a hopeful expression. 
“Don’t look at me like that. What the fuck is wrong with you!? If you think we were such a hassle then why did you stay friends with us!?”
Any hope that Roman had immediately leaves his body, “I-I... I never said that! Where is this coming?!”
“DON’T BULLSHIT ME, ROMAN!” Remus summons his morning star, “WE SAW THE FUCKING CHART! SO, WHAT!? WE’RE NOTHING MORE THAN “DUTIES” TO YOU!?” 
The usual confident side is now frozen in shock. They weren’t supposed to see that chart. They weren’t supposed to see his room at all. If Roman was being honest, he could understand why they took the chart the wrong way. The name of it wasn’t exactly the best but it was all he could think of while actually making it. Now though, he wished he would have pushed himself to think of a better name.
“N-No! You got it all wrong!” He is now crying, flinching away from his brother, “I was just trying to make you guys happy!”
Remus scoffs and puts his weapon away. He walks away from Roman and returns to Janus’ side.
“Whatever, Roman.”
His knees give out and he falls to the floor in defeat.
“I would greatly appreciate if you keep your distance from Patton and I from now on. If you fail to do so, I can’t exactly guarantee that I will be nice. Goodbye Roman.”
“Fucking pussy.” Remus throws out.
And just like that Logan sinks down with a crying Patton.
“And I thought I was the snake,” Janus adds, looking at him in pure disgust.
Then, they’re gone.
For a few seconds Virgil stares at the broken prince in front of him.
“You really are an idiot.”
He looks away from him and sinks down with a scoff leaving the weeping prince on the floor. 
Alone.
....................
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19th Century Literary Misfits Go Vampire Hunting Because Van Helsing Said So
(Yeah, I wrote more. I can’t help it! There’s so much potential in their individual stories for wacky crossovers! Anyway, I hope you enjoy, my fellow 19th century literature nerds! If you want to know what this is all about, here’s the first story and the companion piece to that.)
(Characters include Van Helsing from Dracula, Moreau from The Island of Doctor Moreau, Griffin from The Invisible Man, Frankenstein from Frankenstein, Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray, Hyde from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Moriarty from one of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment.)
(Note: When you see “<...>,” someone’s speaking Russian.)
(Warnings: Blood, violence, killing (not of a human), mentions of murdering innocents, nudity (Griffin gets naked but he’s, you know, invisible...))
A breeze swept through the night air, stirring the branches of nearby trees and causing old buildings to groan. Mist shrouded the city and dampened the ground, hanging on dew laden leaves. Every noise seemed mysterious and alien. A soft clicking joined the night sounds. It intensified as the cold winds brushed past an unseen shape, sending the coat it wore waving.
“C-Can we go b-back now?” The clicking stopped momentarily as a disgruntled voice arose. The arms of the coat wrapped themselves tightly about the invisible shape.
“Not yet, Griffin,” Van Helsing said, not taking his eyes from the open patch of ground in front of them where a lone man stood, “She’ll be here any moment.”
“Then c-can I go back?” The invisible man’s teeth chattered even harder.
“No, your invisibility may be of use to us.”
“For what? You s-said these things can smell blood!”
“You may still surprise her.”
“You only let me w-wear a coat! I’m freezing! And besides, w-we brought H-Hyde for all that fighting n-nonsense!”
Hyde lay concealed beside them. He looked up as they mentioned his name, “Is she here?” he asked excitedly.
“Not yet, but soon.” Van Helsing assured.
Hyde bounced up and down where he crouched, a devilish smile plastered to his face. When Van Helsing had enlisted his housemates’ aid in taking down one of the blood-sucking monsters he always went on about, Hyde had been the first to volunteer. Everyone had ended up going, though, under threat of eviction.
Moreau was the only one who’d also wanted to come; a being that could turn from human to bat was most certainly one he wished to study. The vivisectionist peeked with rapt attention out from behind the bushes they were concealed in.
Van Helsing had asked for a volunteer beforehand to lure the “vampire,” as he called it, in. Frankenstein had shrugged and offered himself as bait. For once, everyone was glad of the scientist’s morose attitude.
“What have I got to lose?” he’d said before trekking out into the open.
Now they all lay in wait. The vampire had been seen in this part of town over the past few days, so there was no reason to suspect it wouldn’t strike again tonight.
Moriarty sat further back from the rest, a blanket he’d brought keeping him from touching the filthy ground, “How much longer must we wait for an imaginary phantom?” he sighed, resting his hands primly on his knees.
Van Helsing turned to glare at him, “It is not imaginary. I have seen plenty of vampires in my time. We must deal with it before it has the chance to move on and turn some poor soul into one of its kind.”
“Let me get this straight,” Gray spoke up with a yawn, “some lady dies from, and I’m quoting you, ‘being drained of her blood by a bat each night,’ which means she must have become one of these vampires when she died, so we’ve got to reel her in, stake her heart, chop off her head, and stuff it with garlic?”
“Yes,” Van Helsing nodded, then froze, “Where is the garlic necklace I gave you?”
“I threw it into an alley somewhere back there,” Gray pointed vaguely back the way they came, “It smelled awful.”
“That garlic could very well have saved your life!” Van Helsing exclaimed angrily, “Now you have no protection!”
“We need no protection from phantasms, professor.” Moriarty scoffed.
Van Helsing glanced at him and sagged, “I see you got rid of your necklace as well!”
“I tossed it aside before Mr Gray did.”
The old man sighed in deep irritation and squinted into the shadows to the left of him, “<Rodion Romanovich, please tell me you kept your garlic.>”
Raskolnikov held the chain of vegetables up into the moonlight for Van Helsing to see. The old man sighed in relief.
“Dr Moreau? Did you dispose of your garlic?”
“No! I’m not an idiot like these two!” the vivisectionist shook his head, “I actually read up on vampires.”
So saying, he shook the garlic around his neck and returned to keeping watch.
Hyde looked at them all with surprise, “How come you guys didn’t eat yours?”
Everyone turned to stare at the crouched man, noting the cloves that had spilled on the ground around him and the empty twine still draped over his neck.
“You… ate yours?” Van Helsing said slowly with an eerie calmness belying his fury.
“Sure did!” Hyde affirmed, grinning.
The coat lying beside him jerked away suddenly, “Yeah, he did! I can smell it in his breath.”
“What’s the matter, air head?” Hyde asked, “Not a fan of garlic?”
He breathed out in Griffin’s direction and the scientist sputtered and crawled away, making Hyde giggle maniacally.
The invisible man gave an angry sigh and threw aside the garlic necklace around his neck, “Forget this! I’m going home!”
“You can’t! She might catch you!” Van Helsing protested.
“Anything’s better than this idiot!” Griffin said and stood to his full height.
Suddenly a pale woman was leaping from out of nowhere and tackling the unsuspecting scientist. Griffin fell to the ground with a cry of alarm and rolled out from the bushes.
“It’s the vampire!” Van Helsing had jumped to his feet the second he saw the creature descending and raised his stake of wood, “Attack!”
The vampire looked up as she saw there were others with Griffin. She dragged him back and lifted him by his coat. Confusion flashed across her face as she found no evidence of a neck.
This brief hesitation was all Hyde needed to spring on top of her, eliciting a surprised screech. Griffin shrugged out of his coat as her hold slackened and stumbled away, his trail marked by imprints in the damp grass.
Moreau and Raskolnikov followed Van Helsing’s lead while Gray and Moriarty hung back, utterly flabbergasted by the events unfolding before them. Then they were both diving for the remnants of garlic Hyde had left behind.
Frankenstein turned around as he heard the sounds of struggle behind him, to see Van Helsing, Hyde, and Moreau confronting a pallid woman of unearthly beauty who was snarling viciously. Raskolnikov dashed up, withdrawing his ax from a loop in his coat, once again holding it the wrong way. The vampire threw Hyde to the side just as Raskolnikov neared and pounced on the Russian, sending his ax tumbling into the short grass. Frankenstein snapped out of his daze and sprinted forward just as Van Helsing leveled his stake at the monster and Moreau lunged with another stake in hand.
Then the woman was changing, her limbs shrinking, ears growing, wings extending.
“She’s turning into a bat!” Van Helsing shouted as the vampire started to take flight, hissing at the garlic around Raskolnikov’s neck.
“Incredible!” Moreau cried, dropping his stake, eyes alight with joy as he watched the vampire ascend, “She’s marvelous!”
“Not now, Doctor!” Van Helsing yelled, though the situation was already well in hand.
Hyde hadn’t wasted a second and launched himself right off the ground. He grabbed the vampire by her wings and she shrieked in anger as they began to descend. The two landed with a crash back in the bushes. Moriarty and Gray scattered immediately with what little garlic they had collected.
The vampire rounded on Hyde and dove for his neck. Hyde opened his mouth and let out a long exhale right into her furry face. She choked and shrank away with a small scream, giving Van Helsing enough time to race over and stab the beast straight through its small chest. The screaming stopped instantly.
“<Quick, Rodion Romanovich!>” At the old man’s summons, Raskolnikov rolled to his feet, retrieved his ax, and brought it down on the bat’s neck, narrowly missing Hyde’s hand. Frankenstein proceeded to grab up the garlic still around the Russian’s neck and shove it into the severed head. Then they all sat back and stared.
Moreau pushed past them and knelt by the creature. He ran a finger along its limp wing.
He looked up after a few moments, “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen! To change from human to bat like that is… wow! I need to study the body!”
Van Helsing gestured tiredly, “Be my guest.”
Moreau gave a small, almost childish squeal and gathered up the vampire pieces.
“I agree with with the doc!” Hyde said. He had twigs stuck in his long hair and scratches across his face, though none of it detracted from his smile of triumph, “Let’s do that again!”
“Where’d everyone else go?” Frankenstein interrupted, glancing around.
“They all ran off, apparently.” Van Helsing replied.
“Not everyone.” The four gathered all looked about them, seeing no one.
The discarded coat lifted itself off the ground and slowly filled out as Griffin put it back on. “I’d yell at you for nearly getting me killed or vampire-ized but I’m freezing c-cold so can we go home now?”
“Yes, Griffin, we can go home.” Van Helsing said and struggled to stand up from the grass he was seated in. Raskolnikov bounced to his feet and offered a hand. Smiling, the professor accepted the help.
The six of them trudged back to their house. Only Moreau seemed to have a spring in his step, eager to return to his lab. Frankenstein glanced over the other scientist’s shoulder, clearly interested. He forcefully drew his gaze away, though; he felt tremendous guilt any time he had any sort of scientific curiosity and wouldn’t tell anyone why.
Van Helsing glanced at the ax in Raskolnikov’s grip, “<That ax of yours has been handy to us on more than one occasion, but I must ask, why do you have it?>”
Raskolnikov was suddenly very pale. His shoulders tensed and he lowered his gaze, then lifted it with new resolve and a wan smile, “<You never know when you might need it.>”
Van Helsing nodded, “<Right.>”
Raskolnikov gave a small, spasmodic laugh and hurried forward.
They met up with Moriarty and Gray back at the house. Both tried to appear calm and collected, though there was obvious fear in their eyes.
“You, er, disposed of it, then?” Moriarty asked, eyeing the dead bat spilling blood on Moreau’s hands.
“Yeah, now move!” Griffin shoved past the professor and threw himself beside the fireplace, flinging his damp coat away.
“Do you believe me now, gentlemen?” Van Helsing asked, just a touch smugly.
“Guess so…” Gray murmured.
Moriarty shifted uneasily, “In light of the new evidence, it would be foolish to say no.”
Moreau sprinted past them and up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut. Frankenstein watched wistfully after him and walked slowly to his own quarters. Moriarty and Gray made hasty excuses and retired. Raskolnikov seemed to have suddenly become ill and moved jerkily to his room, bidding a faint “<Good night>” as he left.
Hyde brushed off his hat and moved back toward the door, “Well, I’m off! The night is young and there’s a whole world of mischief to explore!”
“Please don’t kill anyone!” Van Helsing implored, “It’s getting harder to calm the mobs!”
“Don’t you worry your big head, professor! I won’t kill anyone-”
“Thank-”
“-important.”
“What?”
“Maybe some homeless vagabond or lowly shop owner. Or perhaps a baby! Just kidding! I’m not that much of a monster. Or am I? I’ll see when I get there!”
He threw open the door and started hopping away before Van Helsing could protest, “See ya tomorrow maybe!”
Van Helsing heaved a deep sigh, “Please be Jekyll tomorrow…”
“He’s usually Jekyll in the daytime so I wouldn’t worry.”
Van Helsing jumped and spun toward the fireplace, “Oh, Griffin! I didn’t…” he trailed off.
There was a short pause before Griffin spoke again, in a quiet, intense voice.
“Didn’t what?”
Van Helsing glanced sheepishly at the floor.
“Say it.” Griffin prompted.
Van Helsing looked up to where he figured the voice had come from, “... see you.”
“That’s what I thought.” There was a shuffling as Griffin got to his feet, “Good night.”
Van Helsing winced, berating himself for his slip up. The stairs creaked as Griffin went up them, leaving the professor alone. Or maybe not; Griffin was known to pretend to go upstairs only to remain on the first floor to spy on everyone else.
With that thought in mind, Van Helsing shivered and retreated to the study for some reading before bed, closing the door behind him.
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maiaisbia · 5 years
Text
it'll be okay (one day at a time)
Ragnor asks Magnus to rescue a young warlock just coming into their powers.
Tags: Rescue, Comfort/Angst, Character Study, Protective Magnus Bane, Pre-CanonImplied/Referenced Child Abuse, Hopeful Ending, POV Magnus Bane, Magnus Bane is Good With Kids, Ragnor Fell is a Good Friend
Teen |  Words: 2614 | ao3
Magnus cursed, breathing heavily as he scrambled to grip the ledge of the windowsill, ducking out of sight. He knew the little warlock was inside this house somewhere, and that they needed to be saved. Ragnor had gotten the tip because of his new, fancy role as High Warlock of London, but had been too busy to check it out. Magnus had been relatively free, though he wished he wasn't dressed for a night out on the town.
The light passed out of sight of the window, and Magnus lifted himself up to see the servant was gone. Unlocking the window with a simple spell, Magnus dropped to the floor. All around him were the heads of animals from across the British Empire. Magnus almost wished he knew enough necromancy to bring them back to life and send them on the master of the house.
Because Magnus had a good idea of where he would find this kid, and in what state. It was hard to keep his breathing even and quiet. He hoped everyone would stay out of his way, because he was not in the mood to be merciful.
Magnus reached out with his magic, trying to find where the child was. He sensed a room nearby that had a lingering magical signature. Walking to it and murmuring a spell to silence his footfalls, Magnus found the child's room. It was thrown apart, but there were plenty of toys that Magnus could use to track with. It wasn't the room of an heir to the great estate, destined to parliament and all that rot. But it was once that of a loved child. Magnus picked up a little porcelain doll whose face had chipped off. Clutching the doll tight, he focused, reaching out once more into the house.
There! The basement, of course. Magnus fixed the doll, and tucked it in his coat pocket. He snagged a book and a few other trinkets. They were the child's after all. He paused, turning once more to find a coat and a blanket. It was cold out, and Magnus knew he would need to beat a hasty retreat once they got out of there.
The tracking spell guiding him, Magnus made his way down the spiral staircase and then through the servant halls and stairs. It was one of those houses made to hide the staff as much as possible. It helped Magnus in this case, keeping him out of sight.
The basement was damp and cold. Magnus hurried to where the child was. It looked like a cell, and Magnus hated to think why such a thing was in this house to begin with. It was obviously not a new addition. Opening the door, he saw the little one was curled in the corner. Their bat wings, what must have been their mark, were wrapped around them, but still they were shivering. They flinched away when Magnus came in.
He knelt in front of them. "I'm here to save you," Magnus whispered, holding out the blanket. "We're going to go where no one can hurt you again."
When the little one peaked up at him, Magnus let his glamour down so his cat eyes showed. The child flinched away, but then moved closer, wings folding against their back.
"I'm like you," Magnus said. He looked around the cell. It was clear that the child hadn't used their powers to try and escape. They must have just been coming into them. "I'm going to pick you up, if that's okay?"
The child nodded, and Magnus wrapped them in the blanket. It was clear that the jacket wouldn't fit now that their mark had come in. Nothing Magnus' tailor couldn't handle later.
"Here, I found your doll," Magnus dug his free hand into a pocket, pulling out the toy. The kid clutched it tight, pulling the toy to their chest, before resting their head on Magnus' shoulder.
Once he was sure he had a secure hold on the kid, Magnus booked it. He wished he and Henry had made better progress on their new idea for a spell to create portals. Instead Magnus had to navigate his way through the house once more, with the extra complication of holding a very scared child.
They didn’t make a sound, just pressed close and held on. Magnus could feel the way they shook though, from cold and fear and probably pain. Magnus had to keep in control, though he felt his magic leaping within him. It wanted to burn this home to the ground, killing every person who had participated or turned a blind eye to the hurting of this child. It was hard as of late not to give in to the rage that his despair turned to. But he couldn’t cause more hurt to this child. He needed to be the one that put an end to that hurt, and the best way to do that was to get the hell out of here.
He found a servant’s entrance and unlocked it with ease. There was a man in shirt sleeves leaning beside it smoking, and he jumped when Magnus appeared. Magnus snapped his fingers, sending the mundane to sleep before running onwards. Settling a glamour over himself and the child so no mundanes could see them, Magnus hurried to Ragnor’s home.
.-.-.-.
“I wish Catarina was here, maybe she could tell us what’s wrong with the child,” Ragnor sighed. They had managed to get the child into new clothes, fed them, and cleaned them with some magic. They had healed any visible wounds but the little one wouldn’t stop shaking and hadn’t said a word when Magnus had settled them in a guest room.
“Could they be mute?” Magnus asked, grabbing a rum bottle and splashing it into his tea cup. He winced at the taste though, feeling sick, and put it down.
“That was not the intelligence I had,” Ragnor said, sitting beside Magnus. They were in his parlor, which was really an extension of his library. The warm fireplace made the gliding of book titles flash like captured sunlight. It was one of Magnus’ favorite places to be and he wished he could enjoy it. “If they can’t speak now, it would be a new development.”
Magnus swallowed, eyeing the rum again. His stomach roiled in protest. He was going to have to say this sober then. “When I... after what happened with my mother and step-father... I didn’t talk for a very long time. The shadowhunters that found me on the streets thought I was just being insolent, and would hit me to try and get me to speak.”
Even though Magnus tried to keep himself distant from what he was saying, he still felt the words choking him. Ragnor didn’t look at him as he talked, but a hand settled on his own. Magnus almost shook it off, but instead turned his so he could hold Ragnor’s back.
“It’s probably shock, or fear,” Magnus finished, not wanting to talk further about himself. “We just need to earn their trust, and hopefully they will speak to us.”
Ragnor nodded. “Thank you, my friend, for doing this. For rescuing them. I feel now it might have been unfair.”
Magnus gave a single, bitter laugh, but it was better than the sob he felt building. “It wouldn’t have been fair to most of the others you could have asked.”
“I should have done it,” Ragnor cursed, standing up, still connected to Magnus by their joined hands.
“And leave the mermaid ambassador’s requested meeting? No, we don’t need to cause such offense,” Magnus assured. “You know I’m always happy to help.”
“I do,” Ragnor said, turning to look down at him. “And that worries me sometimes. Magnus, when have you last asked for help yourself?”
Magnus looked away, focusing on the flames of the fire instead. He gripped Ragnor’s hand a little tighter. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Damn it, Magnus,” Ragnor tugged back. “Please tell me what I can do.”
Magnus shook his head, blinking quickly. “Let me stay here and help with this little one?”
“That sounds like you helping others...”
“I can’t be in my house,” Magnus admitted, though the words were sharp enough to cut his tongue. He glanced up at Ragnor, then quickly away again.
“She’s gone again,” Ragnor guessed, crouching into Magnus’ line of sight.
Magnus scoffed, more at himself than his love life. “Camille’s on a “trip,” yes.”
Ragnor scowled. “Magnus she’s...”
“I know, I know!” he snapped back. He moved to stand but collapsed to his knees, the truth he knew too heavy for him. Ragnor reached out, pulling him close, holding him tight. And that did it, Magnus couldn’t hold back anymore. His tears fell, and the sob escaped, followed by many more. He felt he couldn’t breath with the force of them, and he was hardly aware of Ragnor’s hand, rubbing his back. “I know,” he choked.
Magnus didn’t know when he was able to stop, just knew that Ragnor had sat and he was curled against his oldest friend’s chest.
“Forget about Camille,” Ragnor murmured.
“Let me stay,” Magnus croaked. “I can’t be alone.”
“Of course,” Ragnor said. “And I could use the help with the kid. You know I’m not... the best with them.”
Magnus nodded, relief spreading through him. “Okay.”
“Now, let’s get us both to bed, hmm?”
Magnus stood, and held out a hand to assist Ragnor. Ragnor accepted and they didn’t even have to say a word as Magnus followed Ragnor. Changing into a sleeping gown with a snap of his fingers, Magnus curled up on one side of Ragnor’s huge bed. Listening to Ragnor’s steady breathing beside him helped lull him to sleep. His first dreamless night in many weeks.
.-.-.-.
When Magnus was woken, it couldn’t have been the grey London morning filtering through the curtains. His eyes were drawn down as a shadow fell over him. The little child had found their way into the room, their wings stretched now above them. Their eyes were wide and they were holding the doll close.
Magnus pushed himself up, slowly so that he wouldn’t startle the kid. “Good morning,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?” He didn’t see their body shaking how it had been.
The little one just blinked back.
Magnus slipped from the bed, summoning a robe. The child’s eyes went wider and their mouth opened in a gasp. Magnus realized then that he and Ragnor had been fools. They just needed to use their powers, big and flashy, around the kid. That way they would know they were safe. That they were not alone
Magnus tied the warm robe around him, then conjured a little version. He held it out to the child. They pass him their doll so they could put it on over their nightshirt.
“Does your doll want a robe too?” Magnus whispered.
“Sarah,” the voice was so soft, Magnus almost didn’t hear it.
He knelt, holding out the doll. “The doll’s name is Sarah?”
He got a nod for that.
“Nice to meet you Sarah,” Magnus said, turning the doll to face him. Then he wiggled the fingers of his free hand to make another robe appear, this one the perfect size for the doll. He handed both over to the child.
“Thank you,” the child whispered, then carefully put the doll’s arms through the robe.
“What’s your name?” Magnus asked, hoping maybe with the focus on the doll that it would easier for them to talk.
“Mel,” was the whispered answer.
“That’s a very nice name,” Magnus said. “I’m Magnus, in case you don’t remember.”
Mel nodded, holding the doll close again.
“Are you and Sarah hungry?” Magnus asked.
“Sarah is,” Mel answered, voice a little stronger.
“Let’s get her some food, and maybe you can help her eat it,” Magnus stood, and held out a hand to Mel. They looked at the hand, before taking it. So small, Magnus couldn’t help but think. So small to have suffered as they had.
He set them all up in the parlor, using more magic than he usually would. He made the fire, conjuring the wood and lighting it. He summoned the food after ringing the bell. Ragnor had one servant, a mundane woman with the Sight who did his cooking. The bell rang when it was ready, letting Magnus know to get it. There was plenty of toast and sweet jams, eggs and tea. Magnus put lots of milk and honey in “Sarah’s” tea, which Mel drank. Mel also ate all of Sarah’s food, but giggled whenever Magnus addressed the doll to ask if she wanted more. Magnus had everything spread out on a blanket, as if they were having a picnic.
Ragnor found them, smiling as Magnus passed him a plate he’d kept warm with magic. Ragnor summoned his paper, his glamour fully down. Mel watched him with wide eyes, but they hadn’t started shaking again.
“Ragnor, this is Mel and Sarah,” Magnus said, gesturing. “Mel and Sarah, this is my dear friend, Ragnor Fell. He’s the High Warlock of London.”
Mel’s eyes went wider again, if possible. “Magic,” they whispered.
Ragnor smiled, setting the paper aside for later and resting his elbows on his knees. “Yes my dear. I am a warlock, like you are and like Magnus here is. We all have magic, which I think makes us rather fantastic.”
Mel smiled, nodding. “I like magic.”
“Good news!” Ragnor encouraged. “Magnus and I can give you lessons, if you want to know more magic?”
“It’s not bad?” Mel asked, and their face became pinched. Magnus had no idea what they had been told, when they were locked away. Mel was showing great improvement already, but he knew that Mel would probably have days of silence, would probably flinch away from friendly touches. He looked at them, and assured, “Magic is wonderful. You can help people with magic, and helping people is good, right?”
Mel nodded and seemed to relax a bit. Magnus warmed their tea and added a bit more honey.
“You can stay with Magnus and I for as long as you want,” Ragnor said. “But we can also help find you a new home, and family.”
Mel shrunk in on themself at that.
Magnus shot Ragnor a look, then turned a smile to Mel. “But that’s a long ways away. Right now, we’re just going to take one day at a time, how about that?”
Mel blinked, and looked at Sarah. Magnus looked at Sarah too. Mel made Sarah nod her head.
“Wonderful!” Magnus smiled. “After this breakfast picnic, do you want to explore the house? Ragnor has some meetings, so we can find all the rooms in the house while he does those.”
Ragnor nodded, flicking open the paper. It hovered in front of him, leaving his hands free to drink his tea and eat his breakfast. “My first meeting is in an hour.”
“Sarah would like to explore,” Mel said, after tipping their head as if to listen to the doll.
“Maybe play hide and seek too?” Magnus asked, raising an eyebrow.
This got another smile from Mel. Each one was a little bigger. “Yes, please.”
Magnus thought that, with Ragnor and Mel, he’d be okay. He just hoped Mel felt the same way. He and Ragnor were pretty odd fairy-god-uncles. But as Mel smiled, and sipped more of their tea, watching closely as Ragnor turned the pages of the paper with magic, Magnus thought that might just be perfect for them right now.
Together, they would make it. One day at a time.
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