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starwrighter · 8 months

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I am not a baby!! (yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (previous) (next)

(Chapter ten baby!!!!)

Danny isn't stupid. He knew Giga Fish was still here somewhere. Watching him... Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, oxygen ticking lower and lower as he darted back into the semi-safety of his base.

A backpack full of peepers and bladderfish smelled awful. Getting the fishy smell out of his suit was going to take ages! Bladder fish are natural water filters. The fabricator draws out drinkable water from the fish's well...Bladder. Ancients, he hoped the fabricator sterilized this with its little lasers.

Non vegan water...

Sam would have a conniption fit, Tucker would love everything about it. He'd find a way to contact them soon if they didn't find him first. The earful he would get from Jazz might just be worse than his giant stalker. Getting lectured by Jazz would be preferred over sitting here with a gigantic fish a few dozen meters away. At least with Jazz, he knew she cared about him. He didn't know what the big guy wanted from him. Danny wasn't exactly a snack you'd travel through the sea for.

Whatever the guy wanted, Danny didn't care. As long as they both stuck to themselves, things would go just fine...

Peeking through the curtain, Danny saw the massive eel-like fish curled up, staring directly at his base.

Danny really wanted to study the guy. What were his eating habits? He didn't seem to be interested in eating any of the fish around him. Both the sharp teeth at the front of his maw and the shiny bioluminescent stripes that drew fish closer to him suggested a carnivore, but his complete disinterest conflicted with this.

Could a fish be vegetarian? A fish capable of sentience like this one probably could, but Danny didn't want to shove his head in the lion's mouth to test that.

Drawing on his PDA, Danny sketched out the blueprints for a table with a trash bin that slotted into the left side. Two air-tight cabinets were built into it. One smaller one underneath the trash bin and one larger, like a fridge on the right. In the middle was a collapsible set of stairs that'd allow him to reach the top of the table. Maybe making the table shorter would be more convenient, but giving up that extra storage space along with his dignity would be too much for him right now. The table top was a bit too empty for his liking, so he added small drawers at the back edge of the table. A perfect place to store small blades and silverware when he created the blueprints for them. Overall, it was much more like a workstation with built-in storage than a table, but Danny still planned to eat his meals here just as he planned to prepare them.

The fabricator would've been sufficient to cook his meals, but the lasers vaporized the shit out of the organs and bones of the fish. Anything nonedible in a fish's body turned to dust. The dusted ligaments and organs gave the meat a medical taste, like using hydrogen peroxide as mouthwash. Sure, the lasers were cool, but what was the point of cooking if your food tasted like high-tech sadness? It was bad enough that the only seasoning he had was salt. He didn't need his food to taste like it was made in a lab. Gutting his own fish was a necessity. Anything he couldn't eat could be tossed outside for the carnivores to snack on. They deserved a little treat for dealing with his stupidity.

Danny built his little table close to his fabrication station, ensuring it was anchored to the floor and wall. An unsteady piece of furniture could flatten him into an ugly pancake. If his friends were here, they'd agree he looked much cuter when he's only fifty percent dead.

Quickly stepping up to the table with his backpack full of fish, he unsheathed his survival knife... The knife would've been so much more effective than his teeth when he fought the big guy. Danny fought the urge to facepalm. What's done is done, he bit someone like a feral raccoon, but everything worked out!

Gutting fish was more difficult than he'd expected it to be. It was hard to tell if his lack of experience or now tiny hands were what made the task feel a thousand times harder. Peeper blood was yellow, but his own was still a vibrant red that dripped onto the table with every slip of the hand. It felt like a fishing trip with Dad, only without the forty-minute lecture on the dangers of ghost fish.

Running his hands over the now gutted Peepers, Danny used all the power he could muster, freezing them solid. Spots danced in his peripherals, the floor spinning underneath him like a carousel. It took a minute or two to regain his composure. Sitting on the ground with his frozen fish head pounding, face flushed red. Forcing his powers was like trying to drink scalding hot coffee through a toothpick-thin straw. It left him out of breath, fingertips burning with no evidence of damage.

There was an ecto dampener on this planet, he was certain of that. One stronger than any of the ones his parents had built. A radius that reached far past the planet's atmosphere yet still remained potent enough to prevent any significant power usage.

Unfortunately for whoever put the field up, it didn't cancel out his powers completely. Maybe if it did, he would have died completely, saving the culprit or culprits from being mauled. If Danny was anything, he was a stubborn bastard, and there was no amount of dampening that would stop him from clawing the faces of whatever had the audacity to do this! If he had access to his powers he could've saved everyone!

Over a hundred people died because he wasn't strong enough to save them! Because he was prevented from saving them. Ships like the Aurora don't just crash and burn for no reason. Alterra might skimp out a bit on employee safety, but the engineers they hired for serious maintenance were top-of-the-line. Underpaid, but top of the line, they wouldn't make a mistake that could cause that much damage. The way the ship shook, it felt like something had hit them. Everything about this seemed more and more suspicious the more thought he put into it.

For now all he could do was survive in hopes of finding some kind of lead. Finding and stopping whatever was stifling his powers was number three on his to-do list. Just above studying the wildlife but below finding other survivors and surviving himself.

First things first was rations! Both he and any other survivor would need food and water. While he was set with his... questionably hygienic water, fabricating more was a necessity. Giga fish was still out there, Danny could feel eyes on him whenever he passed the glass. All it would take was a split decision to plop his tail in front of the hatch, and Danny was trapped in here to either starve or dry out like a sponge under a sunlamp.

Coral samples and crumbling chunks of salt were taken by the fabricator, turned into bleach within the blink of an eye. The PDA screamed at him, a pitch that could've made his ears bleed. Warnings flashed on screen, the AI desperately pleading with him not to put the substance anywhere near his face. A wild contradiction to the PDA entrance that recommended using it to disinfect his wounds.

Only when he used the bleach to fabricate more water did the tablet stop screaming. The water smelt chemical, and it tasted vaguely of metal coins. Like the overpriced bottled waters, you'd find at an airport vending machine. Laying the bottles on their sides, he stashed them away in the cabinet, placing frozen peepers between each layer. Cold water wasn't a luxury he'd be willing to give up, nor was it something he'd give himself a mind-splitting headache over. So the obvious solution was to turn the cabinet into a disturbing refrigerator with dead fish eyes that stared into the deepest depths of his soul!

Nobody ever said survival was aesthetically pleasing.

Walking back to the window, Danny stares flatly at the curtain. Apparently, the whole "You can't see me, therefore I no longer exist," rule didn't work on this guy, so the curtain was completely useless. Peeking past the cloth, he could see the fish staring at him. Didn't even bother to hide, just sat there like he didn't belong hundreds of meters down doing anything else.

If watching him gave this guy joy, he's going to do something nobody could be entertained by. No longer should he be the comedian for giga fish! He was going to do something so drastic, something he'd only done sparely over the past year! He was going to...

Sleep!

He collapsed down onto the floor, curling himself up with the low-hanging curtains. Spite made it all the easier for him to fall asleep.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet

#You can't tell me the fabricator make anything that tastes good #dpxdc #dp x dc #subnautica au #dcxdp #dc x dp #Damian's going to get a mean nickname if he keeps things up

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months

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Omg the dog shapeshifter ask is amazing but like- cat. i can already imagine Tim being all over you and being one of those guys where half his personality is just that he has a cat. Dick would 120% invest in those hoodies with the pouch to carry their cats, and Jason just carries you everywhere (wiggles be danmed).

The only person who has any qualms about it is Alfred because everything is covered in cat hair lmao.

meow. more pawtastic cat villain! reader w/ batfam

@sophiethewitch1 👅

You tended to take the lead when it came to your relationships with the Robins

They were just too busy with duty and heroism that they rarely ever took the time to be or get into relationships. So you would help them, cover them in that area per se.

Though there were times, like an actual cat, that you suddenly hate their asses or be indifferent. You didn’t notice it yourself really. Sometimes you were just stressed from real life problems and whatnot

or dealing with Bruce’s constant sermons about how you were a bad influence on Jason. Blaming you for all these strung up bodies across the streets of Gotham that had been tied up with yarn and catnip.

sometimes you just wanted to reel back the persona you’ve built up as a villain and just chill out

but you see, if there’s anyone who would notice the slightest change in your demeanor it would be the batboys

Tim and Jason would be the first. They spend the most time with you.

Instead of giving them a kiss or a quick fuck after a job well done, you’d just say goodbye and leave.

Not even in your signature cat joke filled way of saying goodbye

Hell you would even just teleport out of there without a word

Tim would have most likely observed you more, but Jason? Jason would be on your ass in seconds

“Hey, kitty? We need to talk.“

Did I mention that the boys love to use various cat related nicknames for you? The cringier the better.

(Damian just calls you pussy at times)

In anycase, Jason knocks on your door. But you do not respond. Like, for a long fucken time.

Ofc, he smashed the door open.

And what does he see?

Well first it was nothing. I mean his eyes weren’t directly on the floor immediately . But then he move his gaze down,

You, in your cat form.

He just about screams. Shrieks. Like I could maintain his sense of dignity for you dear reader but nah. It started as a shout of surprise before it turned into a high pitched cry, and lastly cooing.

He’s confused at first and is worried about your sudden disappearance til you cleared things up.

Something about a curse that turns you into an actual cat at random moments.

You said it interrupted a lot of your civilian business (school, work, etc.) and so your mental health and well being took a decline.

And boy did Jason go mom mode.

He’s more on the practical side. He makes sure you’re comfortable and guarded especially when in dangerous situations.

Will never let you go on a heist with this curse on going. What if you get shot by a guard? What if you get kidnapped by those horrid animal pounds? Not to mention those perverts that would… no he shook his head.

Definitely keeps you within arms reach at all if not most times.

Tim finds out soon after. You tried to ask him to respect your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself. He was scared to death that he did something wrong or exposed something he did that breached your trust.

He immediately buys a ton of cat related products for you.

Not only that he does an extensive amount of research on cat health and diets.

His rooms gets covered by different studies on cat cellular makeup before he realizes that

Oh crap, he kinda enjoyed this.

And he hasn’t looked up how to actually cure this curse of yours.

Damian soon follows. He’s got it the worst out of all members.

Prides himself with his wide experience and knowledge with animals.

He uses visits to the vet as a threat when you misbehave.

But you’re a villain, you don’t get scared easily right? What’s the worse that could happen at the vet’s?

… yeah he almost got you neutered/spayed.

Safe to say that you were much more obedient after that.

Bruce isn’t that available or good with pets, so he mostly just funds whatever the boys do hoping that it’d lead to them not destroying stuff or killing people for you any more than before the curse.

Dick is the last to find out, and that was because Tim dropped a whole thesis about why the latter should definitely have more [Y/N]-cat-duty hours!

I mean just look at those charts! Your happiness is definitely at its highest when you’re with him

(ignoring the fact that he showers you with catnip)

Dick is definitely the

Cuteness aggression that borders on abuse type of cat owner

Very touchy with you.

And yes he invests a lot of money to get have pouches on his suits for you to be in. If not you’d be like that one cat from Spiderman Miles Morales just hanging out from a backpack of sorts, designed so you’ll never fall out.

Collars.

These men have collectively spent around hundreds of thousands of dollars on cat related shit

And you’re still wondering how tf this curse came to be

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dccomicsimagines · 1 year

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Babysitting on Halloween - Damian Wayne x Reader

Requested by Anon - CAn I have older!Dami celebrating Halloween with the fem!reader?!

Requested by Anon - So could you do a older damian(many 16 idk your the writer) where he's helping his s/o baby sit her five year old stepsister.

Requested by Anon - Could you do an imagine of older!damian Wayne where his girlfriend or s/o gets hit on by another guy and he become very jealous and protective of her?

Author’s Note - I put all these requests together. Hope you all don’t mind. Also Smiley is the stepsister. Now that can be her nickname or actual name, up to you.

***

“Absolutely not.” Damian crossed his arms, his face dropping into his batman glare. You ignored it and kept looking through the racks of costumes.

“I’m watching Smiley on Halloween since our parents have to work and she wants to go trick or treating.” You spared him a glance to find his expression hadn’t change. An older woman further down the aisle looked at him nervously. You sent her a smile to reassure her. Damian still didn’t understand how his height and build changed things when he glared around in public.

Damian’s gaze softened. “Beloved, this is Gotham.”

“Yes and?” You pulled out skeleton costume and held it up to your body. Damian shook his head.

“People don’t trick or treat in Gotham, (Y/N). It’s not safe here.” Damian wrinkled his nose as you pulled out a skimpy skeleton costume next. He reached out, taking it from you and hanging it back up. You laughed and moved on.

“No, they do trick or treat.” You rolled your eyes. “My parents’ neighborhood has a trick or treat party to keep things safe. They live in the suburbs. It will be fun.”

Damian grumbled and narrowed his eyes at an employee that was lingering nearby. The employee paled and ran off.

“Stop scaring people.” You took his hand. “If you are so concerned, then come along. It will be fun.” You smiled, tracing a finger down his chest. Damian’s eyes followed your finger like a hawk watching his prey. “And once Smiley is in bed, we can be alone and do whatever we want.” You sighed, looking up at him with doe eyes.

World war three played upon Damian’s face. His mouth twitched. Eyes narrowed, than widened. His hand tightened around yours. You just kept your eyes on his, smiling rather innocently.

“Fine.” He held up a hand, pursing his lips. “But I’m not wearing a costume.”

“Really?” You frowned, turning away from him. “I mean it doesn’t have to be something you’re uncomfortable with...” You grabbed a ninja costume and held it up to him. “What do you think?”

The tip of Damian’s ears turned bright red. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at the bewilderment on his face. “Perhaps, I could find something to wear that is not this polyester imitation of a uniform.” He took it from you, sneering when he felt the cheap fabric.

“Whatever you want, dear.” You kissed his cheek. “It will be fun.” You turned back to the racks as Damian put the ninja costume away with a huff. “Now, what should I wear?” You tapped your chin, looking at all the costumes.

“TT, anything you wear will be beautiful,” Damian said softly. You turned to hide your blush. “But it will be chilly, so you’ll need something warm.”

You snorted at hearing Damian say ‘chilly’. “That’s true.” Damian’s arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close as you kept up your search.

***

Bruce rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he was staring at the batcomputer for too long. “Damian, could you come back here please?” The batcave was quiet except for the bats screeching.

“TT, what is wrong?” Damian marched back into Bruce’s line of sight. Bruce hummed, taking in the old League of Assassins’ training outfit that fit Damian almost perfectly.

“Why are you wearing that?” Bruce crossed his arms. It looked good on Damian, but that didn’t help Bruce’s concern.

Damian scoffed. A slight blush on his cheeks. “It’s Halloween, Father.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Bruce stood up and stretched. “But why are you wearing that?”

Damian stiffened, shifting from foot to foot. “(Y/N) wanted me to dress up. I couldn’t force myself to wear the ridiculous excuses of costumes at the store, so I thought I could wear something here.” He sneaked a glance at Bruce. “Obviously, our normal uniforms are out of the question.”

Bruce hummed. He studied Damian carefully. “So if someone asks about what you’re dressed as?”

“I’m (Y/N)’s bodyguard and by extension, her sister’s.” Damian smiled rather smugly. Bruce swallowed back a laugh. Did Damian know how charming he was being? Probably not. You were a lucky girl.

“Have fun and stay out of trouble.” Bruce clapped a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Use protection.” Damian’s ears turned red. Bruce had to swallow a laugh. He let his hand drop from Damian’s shoulder as he moved to grab a cup of coffee from the cave’s machine.

“TT.” Damian hurried away before Bruce could say another word. Bruce shook his head and admitted he was proud of the man his son had become.

***

“Smiley, don’t move,” you whispered, gently added the glitter gel to her face. Smiley stilled her body, but, to live up to her nickname, she had a big grin on her face.

“Can we take a picture when you’re done?” she asked. Her eyes sparkled in excitement. The two of you were in your parents’ bathroom. Smiley sat on the counter as you tried to make the picture of unicorn makeup she found online come to life on her face.

Damian stepped in the doorway. He watched you work. “It looks...pretty,” he said slowly when you sent him a warning look.

“Really?” Smiley practically glowed. You suspected she had a little crush on Damian.

“All done.” You grinned, wiping your hands on a towel before holding up a hand mirror. Smiley gasped, clapping her hands at the rainbow glitter makeup on her face. “I think you’re going to be a fabulous unicorn. Now go get your costume on and we’ll have a photo shoot before we go.” You helped her down and she ran off giggling.

“You did a good job, beloved.” Damian stepped in to kiss your cheek.

You smiled, heart fluttering at the praise. “Thanks, it’s harder than you think.” You took in his outfit. “I got to say, you look good in this. A lot better than the one we would have gotten at the store.”

Damian huffed. A faint blush grew on his cheeks. “You look good, beloved. I never thought you would be such a good-looking pirate.” He adjusted the pirate hat on your head. You bit your lip, holding in the giggles that wanted to spill out.

“And the jacket’s warm so I won’t get chilly,” you added, tapping his nose. Damian smirked and leaned down to kiss your lips.

“Damian and (Y/N) sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!” Smiley’s singing broke you and Damian apart. Damian’s eyes widened in horror while you just laughed and peeked around to see Smiley in the hallway in her unicorn costume.

“Now you’re going to get it, Miss Unicorn!” You chased after her, laughing at her giggles. Damian was behind you, a rare chuckle escaping him.

***

Damian frowned when a little hand touched his pant’s leg. He glanced down to find Smiley looking up at him. “Dami, could you take me to the next house? (Y/N)’s taking too long and I want to get the candy.”

You had stepped away to answer a call from your parents. Damian glanced at you before letting Smiley take his hand and walked her up to the next house. A group of older girls dressed like some cartoon show characters passed them, taking about how much candy the house gave out.

“Ooo, I think we hit the motherlode,” Smiley said. She ran ahead and knocked on the door. Damian stayed back. He was close enough to run and grab her if anything were to happen. Much to his disbelief, everything felt safe for the most part. The neighborhood was doing a very good job keeping it that way.

However, this wouldn’t stop Damian from replacing all the candy Smiley got tonight with candy he had pre-purchased. It was Gotham after all.

The door opened and a lady cooed over Smiley’s costume. She glanced up at Damian and flinched, frowning worriedly. Damian relaxed his stance and forced himself to smile. The lady relaxed and dumped two handfuls into Smiley’s bag. “Thank you,” Smiley said, skipping back to Damian. “Look at the goods.”

Damian peeked inside the bag. He almost got a sugar high at the sight alone. “Yes, you did...well.”

Smiley beamed. Damian let her take his hand again as he looked around for you.

He froze when he saw you shifting uncomfortably as two men stood rather close to you. Damian took a deep breath. He scooped up Smiley in one arm and marched to your side.

“I’m actually busy, so I can’t come to your party,” you said. Your voice cracked. Damian frowned, seeing the tension in your body. You weren’t afraid, but nervous. He lengthened his stride to get to you faster. Smiley just giggled, unware of the situation.

“Are you sure baby? Because it will be a lot of fun and you’re dressed so...yummy,” one of the men said, smiling like he owned the world. Damian clenched his fist.

You shook your head, grinning when you caught Damian approaching. “Actually, there’s my boyfriend now. Bye and thanks for the invite.” You waved and slipped past the men to meet Damian halfway.

“Are you alright, beloved?” Damian demanded. He almost kept walking toward the men, but you stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“I’m fine, they were just hitting on me.” You smiled and took Smiley out of his arm. She laughed, chatting away about her candy to no one in particular. You patted her head, but focused on Damian. “It’s okay. You don’t need to go over there.”

Damian pursed his lips. He glared at the men causing them to run off. “TT, I should.” His hand trembled. You took it, squeezing it gently in yours.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you whispered to Damian as Smiley kept talking, not caring that neither of you were listening to her.

“They shouldn’t make you uncomfortable.” Damian growled, glaring at a group of children. They gave you all a wide berth.

“I know, but this isn’t the time or place.” You kissed Damian’s cheek. “Relax. My parents just checked in and said to limit Smiley’s candy intake.”

Damian hummed. Smiley grabbed Damian’s other hand and tugged him along. Damian in turn tugged you. “Next house. I need more candy. My bag is only half full,” Smiley said, pouting slightly.

You laughed and shook your head. “We’ll do our best to fill your bag, but I don’t think there are enough houses in the neighborhood.”

Damian snorted, but a smile tugged at his lips as your sister protested. He vowed not to leave your side again until you were safely home.

***

“Is she asleep?” Damian asked as you walked in and collapsed on the living room couch beside him. Your sister had a bit of a sugar high and it resulted in a hour long chase around the house to burn it off. Damian had thought he had seen it all. Apparently not.

“Finally.” You let out a long sigh and snuggling into his side. “Thank you for tonight. It was fun.”

Damian kissed your temple, resting his arm around your shoulders. “It was...an experience.”

You giggled. “Yes, it was. I’m glad you were here with me.” You closed your eyes and relaxed. Damian hummed. It pleased him to no end that you felt so safe near him. Most people felt frightened.

“It was my pleasure, beloved.” He grabbed the remote without moving and turned on the tv. You opened your eyes. “When will your parents be returning?”

“Probably around two.” You rested your hand on his knee. Damian’s knee burned at the pressure. “I told them to go out and have some fun since they ended up working so late and we were here anyway.”

Damian hummed. “So...what should we do?”

You looked at him with care. Damian blushed as you pulled your hand away from his knee. “We could watch some scary movies? I could make popcorn?”

Damian bit his lip, glancing at the tv then back at you. “I would enjoy that.” He let you get up and walk out of the room. Damian smiled as a sense of peace filled him. He let himself imagine what it would be like to have a home and a family with you some day. His smile widened. It would be something to look forward to.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #batfamily #batfamily imagine #halloween #batman #batman imagines

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puddingcatbeans · 4 months

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tim drops a glass and spirals.

Tim is just trying to drink some water. Hydrate or die-drate, as Steph has taken to reminding him. But he must have moved too fast, or his lack of sleep must have caught up to him, because the next thing he knew, the glass had slipped out of his hands and smashed into pieces on the kitchen tiles.

Tim hears the sound as if there was an audio delay. A ringing had started in his ears, but nothing is louder than the sudden pounding of his heartbeat. He keeps hearing the echo of the glass smashing, and something in him is screaming useless apologies. It takes him a moment to realize he's having trouble breathing.

Oh, he thinks. I'm having a panic attack.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees Kon rush into the kitchen. He was choosing a movie, Tim recalls absently. He always takes too long flipping through the categories, only to make Tim choose in the end.

"Rob? Hey," Kon is saying. He has his hands outstretched, but he stops an arm's length away.

Tim's fingers are clenched tight around the edge of the counter. He unlatches one, reaching out. When Kon steps forwards again, Tim clutches at Kon's shirt, right over his heart. He tries to copy Kon's breathing. Kon, the lovely specimen that he is, takes exaggerated breaths and counts aloud for him. They're doing one of the grounding exercises from training -- because PTSD is practically a requirement for capes by this point.

It's not working.

Tim gasps, head low and tears in his eyes. "B," he says. "I can't--"

"Okay, okay," Kon says. "Hold on."

When he makes to step away, Tim grasps his shirt tighter. He knows it's not rational, Kon's probably just trying to get his phone, but he can't make himself let go. He squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to get his breathing under control.

Distantly, he hears Kon's voice. "Mr. Wayne," Kon says, in the voice he uses when he's nervous but trying to hide it. "Sorry to bother you, but uh. How fast can you make it to Tim's apartment? Or I can fly him to you, if it's faster."

Tim stares at the glass pieces by his foot. They're kind of pretty. Like ruined things are, something you can never take back, only sit alone in a too-big mansion wondering where you went wrong.

"He's here, he's fine--um, physically fine. He's having a panic attack, I think, and uh--I think he'd like to see you--Oh, fifteen minutes, okay..."

He doesn't know how long he stands there, Kon's TTK holding him up. Then Bruce is there, and Kon is easing his fingers off his shirt.

Bruce is dressed in an immaculate suit, the kind he wears for the office. His face, though, was all Batman. Tim can't stop the flinch when he meets those stern eyes. They soften immediately.

"Tim," Bruce says, and Tim sucks in a breath. Bruce doesn't have a nickname for him, but like chum for Dick, or Jaylad, or how he calls Damian son. But Bruce will call his name like this sometimes, quiet, warm. Something that Tim holds carefully in the corner of his mind.

"B," Tim manages. He rips his hand off the counter. It hurts his nails. His legs are shaking.

"I'm right here," Bruce says, and it's not fair how easily he projects calm and commands all of Tim's attention. He holds out a hand, keeping eye contact. "I'm not going anywhere. Conner's in the other room. You're safe."

"I know," Tim says. He gulps in more air. Forces himself to hold it, breathe out. Without meaning to, his hand finds Bruce's. He holds it in a deathgrip. Bruce doesn't complain. "I just. I dropped the glass."

Bruce nods. He barely casts a glance over to the wreckage. "It's okay. We can clean it up later. No one is hurt."

"I didn't mean to," whispers Tim.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

"Okay."

Bruce squeezes Tim's hand. "Would you like Conner to sit with you while I clean up the glass, or would you like me to sit with you?"

Tim reaches up to wipe at his eyes. "I can... I should clean it up. It's my mess."

"That's not one of the options, Tim."

"... You."

"Okay," says Bruce. He leads them both into the living room. Kon takes one look at them and disappears back into the kitchen.

They sit on the couch. Feeling exhausted and wrung-dry, Tim leans into Bruce's shoulder. His solidness is familiar. Safe. There's a part of Tim that is still cowering on the kitchen floor, bleeding and shivering at the memory of sharp nails and sharper reprimands. But he's miles away from the lonely ten year old who thought love was something to be earned. He's better now.

By the time Conner returns, perching awkwardly in the armchair, Bruce has put on a documentary. It's about the desert. Tim sinks further into the couch. He breathes.

#tim drake #bruce wayne #conner kent #batfam #dc fanfiction #beanfics #something something reconciling with childhood traumas #and realizing you're still reaching out for a parental figure because that's what children do #even when they've been burned #i'm taking a break from the chapter in my original poetry book with the placeholder title 'family hard' and #yeah it's hitting hard. anyway #what's the point of a blorbo if you don't project on them right

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jinx-jade · 3 years

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Cries of a hummingbird part 1: First time

The first time the bats heard the scream was near the end of their patrol.

They had all tensed.

Each bat knew full well what kind of emotion the scream came from.

The screams were not of a victim. No, it was closer to the frustrated scream of a person after keeping themselves together for far too long.

It was someone forcing out their emotions, raw and unfiltered before they would lock it away once again. Pushing it all down into a small bottle, deep inside of them that always felt like it was about to shatter.

It was a scream in which if you were caught, no one would dare say a word or poke fun. If anything the person who caught you screaming or sobbing would simply sit with you till you were done.

The bats know those screams and sobs better than anyone else. They know the sounds of a soldier finally breaking down, having heard it from their family members and themselves.

That was most definitely what they were hearing right now.

Oracle quickly gave them the location she pinned the sound coming from.

Except, when the bats arrived, there was no sign of anyone having been there.

Not a single hint that the rooftop was anything more than empty.

“Are you positive this is the place?” Batman questions.

“One-hundred-percent. Whoever was screaming should be there. I’m checking the security tapes now.” Oracle informed them.

The bats fell silent, looking around for anything they might have missed.

All of them were stiff. Most of them looked around awkwardly. A few of them tried to force themselves to relax, but there was a strange feeling that they couldn’t shake.

After a few moments of not finding anything, their comms crackled back to life.

“You... Uhm... you should see this.” Oracle hesitantly states.

The vigilantes looked at each other, question clear on all of their faces despite the masks they wear. A few moments later they began heading back to the cave.

Once they arrived, Oracle showed them the security footage.

They watched it again...

And again…

Yet they saw the same thing every time.

It was very concerning.

A blue, glowing circle appears. A girl steps out of it. The girl proceeds to break down.

That wasn’t the part that scared them. Sure almost all of them tensed at the screaming and sobbing. Yet that wasn’t the concerning part of the footage.

Once the girl, a child who looks no older than twelve, stopped screaming, her tear stopped as well. The only way you could tell she had broken down was by the tear streaks running down her face.

Once those had been wiped away, the only evidence left was this security tape.

The kid ended up coming back to scream or sob at a random time during the year, and not every time was at night.

The bats ended up doing nothing about this random magic child that would break down in Gotham. They honestly couldn't do anything about this.

Sure they would hear the screams once or twice a month but they could never get there in time to talk with her.

Slowly, the visits became less frequent. Going from twice a month to once a month.

Once a month to every other month.

Every other month to every three and a half months.

Every three and a half months to every six or seven months.

Sure the visits were lessening, but the sobs and screams became louder. They became even more unnerving for the bats to hear.

The bats ended up giving the kid a code name so they were easier to talk about.

Before they had a code name the bats had to refer to her as the crying child, the kid, and other names along those lines. While they weren’t bad or mean names, it felt wrong to call her that.

They each had their code name for her, but the main code name all the bats use is Hummingbird due to how small and fast she is.

They have all tried to talk to her, but are never able to catch up to her. She also seems to flee at the first sight of danger, be it actual danger or just the vague unknown is dangerous.

At this point, all the bats are emotionally attached to Hummingbird, whether she knows it or not.

One of the times Hummingbird showed up in Gotham, the Kents had been visiting Wayne manor.

The Supers hadn’t even tried to listen for any specific sounds. Clark and John could simply hear it as if the person was right next to them.

They looked to be in pain from the loud noise, even with Hummingbird being in the city and them being on the outskirts.

The Kents who could hear her tried to get up to help only for the bats to have them sit back down. The screaming subsided eventually, leaving the heroes with a lot of questions.

“What do you mean that’s normal! People screaming like that is not normal!” Clark argued. The bats all look a bit uncomfortable with this topic.

“Pixie shows up once in Gotham to break down sometimes,” Jason says as he closed his book, so he could turn his attention to the conversation.

“Pixie?” John questions. “You know the person who was screaming and sobbing?”

“Tch. None of us have gotten close enough to interact with Shadow.” Damian states a little annoyed.

“We all have our nicknames or code names for her. Dick calls her Bluebell, Jason calls her Pixie, I call her Phantom, Cass calls her Mockingbird, and Damian calls her Shadow. Bruce and Alfred just call her the main name we have for Phantom, which is Hummingbird. We all use that code name for her.” Tim easily explains

“And this first started, when, exactly?” Clark questioned.

“About three or four years ago. We tried to track her, but she uses magic portals to get here in the first place. We attempt to talk to Hummingbird when we’re out on patrol, but usually the second she spots us she portals away.” Bruce informs them with a tired sigh.

“How old is she?” Louis asked.

“She looked to be about eleven or twelve when this first started. That would make her somewhere between fourteen and seventeen now. We don’t know for sure since we can’t get close enough to talk to her,” Dick answers.

“Have you tried approaching her as a civilian yet? Cause your vigilante suits might be what’s scaring her” John asked as if it was an obvious idea.

All of the Waynes realized their stupidity and proceeded to either groan, sigh, or facepalm.

#maribat #maribat march 2021 #cries of a hummingbird

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camsthisky · 3 years

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Sleeping on each other + Dick and Damian?

“How long has he been out?” Dick hears Stephanie whisper from close by.

With his eyes closed, he can’t see where she is—hadn’t even realized she had been in the room, actually—but he doesn’t open them to find out. Small, gentle fingers run through his hair, keeping Dick in place and relaxed, despite Steph’s intrusion.

“He isn’t sleeping,” Damian says, tone just as soft despite his words. “Merely resting.”

Steph hums, sounding unconvinced. “He sure looks asleep to me.”

The thing is, Dick isn’t asleep, not really. He’s floating just on the edge of a doze, his head resting in Damian’s lap, grateful Damian hadn’t protested much besides his usual grumblings.

And Dick hadn’t meant to lie there long enough to unwind so fully, either. At least, not to the point of near dozing, but with his heart pulsing painful palpitations of sheer emotion and his mind running in dizzying circles, the moment Damian’s fingers gently tugged at Dick’s hair, Dick had been gone.

And Damian hadn’t complained once. Not really. Not in a way that would make Dick think himself anything but welcome in his little brother’s company.

Dick’s thoughts swirl and weave into a confusing mesh of patterns and warmth of gentleness, and he finds himself drifting once again. It’s only Damian’s voice that pulls him back from under once again.

“I am not sure Richard is okay,” Damian says, quiet, yet still sudden enough that Dick’s mind snaps back to attention. There’s a hesitation, and then, “I don’t know how to help him.”

Steph sighs. “Honestly, don’t think any of us are okay, Dames.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Steph huffs a laugh.

“Oh, chill, you gremlin. Dick isn’t the only one that can call you that, you know. I was right there with you guys through that mess when Bruce was—ya know. It was us three and Alf. I think I reserve the right to give you non-insulting nicknames.”

Damian says nothing.

“But seriously, Damian,” Steph says, her voice lowering to a softness that’s hard to come by in genuineness when it comes to Stephanie Brown.

Some sappy part of Dick is satisfied that his little family is more than him just bridging the gaps between individuals like it used to be. His family has started to build their own bridges to each other, and some metaphorical weight eases just slightly at the realization.

“He’s overworking himself,” Steph continues. “At this rate, something’s going to give.”

“Richard promised to take a break,” Damian tells Steph.

“I’m not talking about Dick,” Steph says. “I’m talking about Bruce. And the worse your dad gets, the worse Dick gets trying to fill in every thing Bruce lets slip in his conquest to be a super scary masked nighttime ass-kicker.”

Dick can imagine Damian’s confused scowl. “What is the point, Stephanie?”

“My point, Damian, you lovely little gremlin, you, is that in order to help Dick, we need to help your dad.”

“Father won’t allow it.”

“Who cares?” Steph says. “Bruce may be Batman, he may be your dad, but he sucks at seeing some of the things in front of him.”

“Meaning?” Damian clicks his tongue, seemingly impatient.

Steph sighs. “Dick is one of Bruce’s biggest blind spots. As much as Bruce sees and thinks about every probability, there’s a weight that he always seems to leave for Dick to pick up when he gets like this.”

Damian falls quiet. Throughout all of this, his fingers never stop brushing through Dick’s hair.

“Father tends to bear the weight of the sky,” Damian finally says, quiet and thoughtful, “but Richard brings up the sun.”

“Poetic,” Steph snorts. “But yeah, you get the picture. Dick just sucks at taking care of himself sometimes, especially when Bruce needs to be taken care of.”

“Then we shall take care of them both,” Damian declares.

Steph laughs. “Business as normal, I guess. God, vigilantes are such a pain in the ass.”

“You are a vigilante.”

“My point exactly.”

“I don’t believe I will ever understand you, Brown.”

“All part of my charm, Dames.”

Dick huffs out a slight breath of laughter before he lets himself finally sink into a dreamless sleep, surrounded by his family.

#dick grayson #damian wayne #stephanie brown #i love this trio #dc #i have feelings to vent #so take some angst slash fluff #angff if you will #camryn writes #prompt #brambleberrycottage #sorry for literally disappearing for like three months #i had some shit going on

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dennou-translations · 3 years

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Violet Evergarden: Booklet 3

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At that moment, I found myself thinking, “Aah, maybe if I disappeared, if I vanished right now, nobody would notice.”

Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

Nobody called for. Nobody tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos. It was such a weak mindset, which people most likely wouldn’t expect to come from someone born in a family that was meant to rule a country.

“Members of the royal family are actually not supposed to expose their original selves. Under no circumstance should you forget that you must act with dignity and be a role model to your subjects.”

Even though I had already become a wife, I behaved like a little girl.

“However...”

I had experienced a romance like the ones that young girls dream with.

“...from my long time working in the court...”

I fell in love and won my beloved lord over.

“...these have been the most memorable Public Love Letters. Yes... in a good sense.”

After running and running, I was now living the aftermath of that.

My name is Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel. Already a year had passed ever since I married off to Fluegel.

Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel and the Forest Kingdom

Drossel and Fluegel – no matter what could happen to these two nations in the future, they had me as their intermediary princess. If I happened to die in this rose labyrinth without anybody ever finding me, I wanted someone to remember that.

As to why things had turned out like this, I’d have to rewind my life a little to explain. I had to mix up the cauldron of time that made the hours pass.

How far back was I supposed to go?

That beautiful golden-haired girl. My favorite. The ghostwriter who had become a mediator for my romance.

Rewinding to the times of Violet Evergarden’s Public Love Letters would be going back too far. It should be a bit later. Perhaps the appropriate would be around the time when I, who was once the third princess of Drossel – that beautiful country where white camellias bloomed in copious amounts –, went away and changed my surname. Yes, right, that was adequate enough.

Fluegel was a neighboring country of prosperous forestry. I was married to the man who had the priority rights to succeeding its throne. Letting go of everything that I had cherished until then, I married off.

I had transformed from a girl into an adult. Although my appearance hadn’t changed much, that was my status.

My husband was Damian Baldur Fluegel. He was the person who possessed the rights of succession as the next monarch at the beginning of our marriage, but a few days ago, he had inherited the throne from his father and become a king both in name and reality. In other words, I had become the queen as well.

Probably the worst queen in history. After all, I had run away.

Let me try to trace the rewound time with exact precision.

Fluegel’s capital was a city of fresh greenery, which had a castle erected in the depths of a forest. Said royal palace couldn’t be considered sturdy or showy, but it was in perfect harmony with the nature, endowed with a calculated beauty. Unlike Drossel, a country that maintained itself through the tourism industry, Fluegel had much of its national interest shouldered by its forestry. Drossel’s national flower was the white camellia, while Fluegel’s was the red rose.

The two countries were separated by a large river, but one would be tempted to wonder how they could be so different.

Differences were by no means a bad thing. After all, Lord Damian and I had met because we had been raised in such different cultures. That was exactly why I became attracted to Lord Damian’s… albeit artless, uninhibited personality, which was so unlike that of the royals from Drossel and other nations...

Yes, “differences” were not bad. But the so-called “differences”... how should I put it? When they weren’t tolerated, instead viewed as an absence of profits and effort, they would turn into a really bad thing.

Most likely, that was what made me the way I was now.

Was this an excuse? It might be. But that was how it was. That was it.

At first, my life in Fluegel didn’t go well.

Becoming used to even small differences in habit was extremely difficult for me, which caused the chamberlain to sigh often. He was someone who deserved respect for having taken care of Lord Damian’s personal matters for quite a long time.

There was no mistaking that I was in a position higher than his, but I soon understood that he looked down on me. One could tell as much by things such as the movements of the other’s eyes and their attitude.

The chamberlain would tell me: “That is not the way we do it in Fluegel”, “This is for your protection. You will be criticized otherwise. Now, fix yourself up”, “I have said this several times, but...”

I didn’t think I was some idiot. I believed myself to be the kind of girl who could do well if I put my mind into it. But I had to admit that I was a very unstable crybaby.

The differences such as the ones that the chamberlain talked about were, for example, the order in which people were seated at meals, how to lift my dress when hopping into a carriage, and other minute details like that. If I were told such things back in Drossel, I was positive that I could internalize it in the first try. After that, I definitely wouldn’t repeat the mistake. But the moment I tried to do it in this foreign country that I wasn’t familiar with, being watched by the monitoring eyes of someone that didn’t have me in his favor, I ended up failing. It was almost as if I were inducing the failure on my own. What was this phenomenon?

The chamberlain most likely knew this as well. He knew it, and even then he would sigh and speak in a detached manner while watching me go pale. There was nothing good in it for either of us, yet we would find ourselves repeating this vicious cycle.

To be honest, we were so incapable of getting along that the desire to jump off from one of the Fluegel castle’s windows as retaliation surged from within me. However, I had no choice but to keep going. Because I was a newcomer and that person was an elder.

If I didn’t get used to this, it would be the end of me.

Right, and there was also the tea party. The flow of the Cauldron of Time had finally returned to the present.

It all had begun… from the chamberlain suggesting that if I, who had become the queen, held a tea party, I would certainly make myself known as someone who shines like the stars in the night sky. He gave a long speech about my authority as a queen being this and that. That detestable chamberlain.

I did like tea parties, but even after being in Fluegel for a year, I wasn’t able to find myself anyone that I could consider close to me, so I frankly didn’t like the idea. I hadn’t gotten myself anyone to be on friendly terms with, so rather than a display of my power, wouldn’t this be deemed as more of a public execution for me?

Ever since I had arrived here, I was in the position of a foreign princess who had a political marriage with Lord Damian, so both the royal family that I had joined and the people who took care of me were somewhat distant… To make things worse, I was the very person who had tainted the traditional event of the Public Love Letters. People were wary of me as an unprecedented princess.

I had seen that Fluegel had a liberal aspect to it and wasn’t too bound by formalities in comparison to Drossel, but when it came to the royal family, that was a different story.

Whenever I passed the corridors of the royal palace, I could hear one name being whispered. Everyone would have faint smiles on their faces. “Baby Princess” was what they called me.

The one who came up with it was Lord Damian’s younger sister or something. Indeed, I had childish facial features and I was the girl who had married for love, so there was no helping that I would be mocked like this.

Receiving a nickname and having it made into a title meant that it was ingrained in people. Once a knight earned himself an alias, others would expect him to have a conduct that was worthy of it. In that same manner, no matter what I, Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel, might say… I lived in Fluegel as the princess whom everyone would giggle at.

Whenever I made a mistake, “it’s because she’s a child”. If I happened to rush towards Lord Damian, “it’s because she’s a child”. Whenever I said anything, “it’s because she’s a child”.

If there was some magic spell that could turn me into a twenty-year-old right now, I would have taken it. It’d be great if I could instantly grab ahold of my dignity in a way that nobody would complain. But that was something that people had to be awarded to through the years, along with their efforts...

I might have been the Baby Princess today as well – the day of the tea party.

The chamberlain was in awfully high spirits, which one way or another was an omen for misfortune. I was watching from my bedroom as the elderly man briskly instructed the people around him.

From the room where I stayed with Lord Damian, I could see the castle’s garden, the rose maze that started from the garden’s entrance veering to the side, and the castle town. Back when we had just married, we used to often gaze outside the window together, but now we couldn’t even talk for more than five minutes.

Ever since succeeding the throne, Lord Damian was truly busy. He would be working while I waited for him in our room; by the time that I woke up, he would be by my side without me having realized it; as I stretched the creases that formed between his eyebrows while he was dreaming, he would wake up all of a sudden and then head off to the royal office again.

I was depressed since morning, because why did I have to hold a tea party while my husband was working so indiscriminately? But, well, this was also part of my duties. It was important for me to mingle with other women from a social status similar to mine. The trust earned from them would help not just me but also Lord Damian.

Those who controlled factions also had control of politics. Yes, yes, I knew that much. I had to do this exactly because things weren’t going well. In order to level up my speech skills, I had to start from taking up a stance. As my position was becoming worse, if I could get around here well, I would increase my authority in the royal territory without having to recreate myself.

I understood the reasoning behind this. What the chamberlain said was correct. He was implicitly telling me to do right, and I was the one at fault for not managing it...

The tea party was held in the garden outside at the arranged time.

There were people that I hadn’t seen ever since my wedding ceremony, whom I greeted while turning my head around at an incredible speed. Whenever someone sprinkled the subject of political affairs here and there, I’d throw it back at them with a smile, literally tearing apart and flinging away whatever came at me on repeat. Although the scene actually looked like a peaceful conversation, under the surface, I, the queen, was being evaluated, so this was a battle.

I thought I had done a really strenuous effort up until the middle of it. Instilling the impression that “My, so maybe the Baby Princess isn’t a bad person and is surprisingly smart when she talks?” was quite a success. The signs that I could make them deem me as worthy of standing by Lord Damian’s side were becoming visible. However, the very moment that Her Highness, the King’s young her sister, appeared in the tea party, everything I had set up crumbled down at once.

She was pretty late from the scheduled time – rather, she suddenly showed up when it was already ending.

Although she was close to me in age, she had a very adult appearance and was an awfully beautiful person. Renowned as one of Fluegel’s talented women, she was also involved with the National Assembly, and told us that she had rushed over because the meeting had ended just now. I had not yet been allowed to attend the meetings even though I was the queen, so I was terribly jealous... and a little miserable.

Of course, whatever had been discussed there became the topic, which Her Highness told the women present, explaining in a simplified manner. What a wonderful person she was.

Regardless, it felt like this was going to end as Her Highness’s tea party, even though it was mine. Well, that was okay too. Rather, it might be easier if there was someone to take the initiative to talk like this. I had a bug where I couldn’t speak very well to people whom I wasn’t close to, so I decided to leave it to her.

Despite this being a tea party, I hadn’t eaten anything, so I had the feeling that I would get hungry in the evening. I wondered what we would have for dinner.

Just like that, half of my soul disappeared somewhere else, so I didn’t notice that the subject had changed from state affairs to the next successor to the throne.

“Queen, are you listening? If things continue the way they are, there will be no helping it if a concubine is appointed.”

Since I hadn’t noticed it, I couldn’t react right away, even as I took the tremendous brutality of those words to the face. This had happened just a moment ago, so I didn’t remember very well what kind of reaction I’d had. I had the feeling that I had responded with a somewhat sluggish reply such as “aah” or “eeh”... much like the way that living creatures cried for the first time upon being born.

I could immediately tell that Her Highness wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“It is because you are so laidback like this that the King has to fight the national affairs alone. You still intend to be here as a guest, not doing what you have to do, so everyone has to hold back and nobody can speak up their opinions. Talk more. Be more useful to the country. Most important of all, it has already been a year, yet nothing has been reported to us. Are you seriously discussing the succession with the King? If this goes on, someone will suggest a concubine for him.”

With such words thrown at me in sequence, I—I had... I had a thought. That perhaps she was trying to make me lose heart. Wasn’t I being attacked right now?

I looked around. Nobody attempted to open their mouths in order to defend me. There was no one. I had no one.

All of them were waiting for my reaction.

I knew this situation. I knew it very well. I wasn’t being treated as a person at the moment. My personality was being denied as well. The dignity that should be granted to the human being named Charlotte wasn’t being taken into account.

However, I didn’t break. Why?

Because I was used to being neglected.

“Yes, I am truly doing a poor job. I believe it is as you say.”

I was smiling.

“However, it has not yet been decided what will be my part of the work and what will be the King’s, as we are in the process of deciding on it as a couple.”

I was smiling mockingly.

“Now that I have talked to all of you like this, I have concluded I should propose my thoughts to the parliament slowly, little by little.”

I was... smiling.

“I was the princess of my country. But now, I am the queen of Fluegel. I did not intend to be here in the position of guest, but it is true that I was restraining myself. But is that not the same for all of you? I am aware. Everyone has been... well, surrounding me from a distance and looking after me. I was fretting, as it would have been better for you to tell me more directly if there was anything wrong... By all means, I would like to have a frank exchange of opinions with you in the future... and I hope that we can help each other... as fellow women.”

This was laughable.

Her Highness was appalled. So was everyone else. She must have spoken so conflictingly due to thinking that it was sure to make me start crying.

I wanted her to stop saying such stupid things. I was the former third princess of Drossel. Did she know what kind of country that was? It was a country where it was okay for women to become political tools. We were by no means granted the position to act freely like she did. As the shadows so-called “women”, we had no choice but earnestly do whatever we could.

I was born in a country were women were consumed and worn down. To top it off, I had been raised mostly by courtiers, away from my biological parents. I hadn’t seen my mother in forever.

Exhausted as a result of her marriage of convenience, Mother had Father build her a palace and secluded herself in it all day long every day. She did show up at the wedding ceremony, but she hadn’t even sent me a single letter after I had married off. She had probably already forgotten that she had given birth to me.

But that was the country I had been born in. I had been raised by one of this country’s strong women – a carefully selected, tough woman. This person patiently educated me, even though my aptitude wasn’t good. She explained things to me over and over again. She scolded me a lot. She taught me so that I would be able to marry anyone and live anywhere. She had also predicted that a situation like this might happen. So she told me how to act during a quarrel with other women.

That was why I smiled at times like these.

My looks weren’t bad. I was no idiot. I knew what effects I would bring about if I smiled. There was little that I could do, but I was going to be the one firing the best shot here.

I was a crybaby. I was a weakling. I was lonely.

However, I had been taught well. No matter what, I couldn’t lose in times like these. I knew that much.

I had been protected through the erasure of my personality.

That day’s tea party was over right then, and thanks to the chamberlain saying that it would soon be time to bring it to a close, it ended well.

At a later date, my feud or whatever with Her Highness would become a rumor around the royal palace, but that was a story of the future. In any case, it was over for now. Therefore, I was extremely relieved.

The chamberlain let me return to my room unusually early and consoled me with a “you must be tired”. “You were excellent today,” he told me. Enveloping my shaky palms in his hands, which had wrinkles just like Alberta’s, he warmed them up. “No matter what happens, do not forget that you have one ally,” he said.

From that, I understood a little something. That he, indeed, worried about me in his own way. I wasn’t fond of his way of doing things, but he had struggled as much as he could in order to do something to improve my position.

He had seen what I had gone through today, so he was commending my brave fight. I had been subjected to violence today. I had been told such terrible things. Even though I—I...

I was in love with Lord Damian.

Both Drossel and Fluegel were aware of this. The citizens of both kingdoms knew it. And yet, aah, how embarrassing. But everyone knew.

I was in love with that person. I was in love.

“You have not sired a child after a year, so there might be need for a concubine. Therefore, if such a woman appears, you should accept it,” she said, despite knowing how much it would hurt me.

I was told off. I was told off by the younger sister of the object of my affections. That was what she said to me.

“Thank you, but please, let me be alone.”

I still managed to keep my smile up, but as soon as I drove the chamberlain out of the room, the tears overflowed torrentially and I couldn’t stop them.

There should be things more painful than that out there in the world. I looked like a fool for crying because of something like this. But right now, I was feeling like the most pitiful person in the world. I wanted to return to Drossel. I wanted to go home to Drossel.

No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it.

I wanted to go back to the person who would always allowed me to cry, no matter how much I did so. The person who would stay by my side.

“Alberta...”

I wanted to go back to Alberta.

I knew it was stupid of me. But when I thought that a day might come when Lord Damian, my husband – the object of my affections –, would take another woman aside from me, it was so painful. My chest hurt – it hurt so much that it was hard to breathe. So I couldn’t contain my cries.

I wondered what had gone wrong.

Was it because I had started clamming up, since the chamberlain would always hammer me down by saying, “That kind of unheard-of behavior is not allowed here”, so I couldn’t speak the way I wanted to? Or was it because I was late to find out that not assertively addressing the royal family was bad manners, since I was in a position where I had to wait for people to talk to me first back in Drossel?

Perhaps it was everything.

Apparently, Fluegel hadn’t taken in a princess from abroad in the last sixty years, so maybe it was already difficult for them to accept a foreign object like me in the first place. Things would probably have been different if I were a great woman – yes, a woman like Her Highness –, yet I had nothing but tears. Still, was I such a horrible person that I had to be told such things?

Aah, nothing – just nothing. Nothing was working out. It might be that nothing would go well from now on too.

This thought swiftly made its way into my heart.

All of a sudden, I was able to clearly hear the sounds around me. The noises of someone walking, the whistling of the wind outside, my own breathing. The way that the tears fell down as they dripped from my eyelashes, the way that I was suddenly looking at myself in a holistic manner.

Yes, perhaps things would never work out from now onward. If so, then...

Then, shouldn’t I run away?

Several questions – such as to where, with whom and to do what – came to me, but I ignored them. I had probably broken down at that point.

I dropped my own heart, which I had been cherishing as much as possible in order for it not to break, onto my feet. I had the feeling that I heard a clank when doing so.