Tumgik
#He's still cool as a warden!
thatonesubwaypenguin · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
I drew Warden Ingo to commemorate PLA's 2nd Anniversary!! This is a redraw of a screenshot that I took during my playthrough!
Tumblr media
257 notes · View notes
my greatest achievement in DA2 is maxing out Carver's friendship
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and all it took was begrudgingly kissing a little templar ass in act 1 because Carver didn't want to plan a prison break if my Hawke got his ass arrested for being stupid.
#carver hawke#dragon age#dragon age 2#da2#well that and he didn't want leandra gamlen and himself to also get arrested for harboring an apostate but you get me#carver hawke loves his sibling and doesn't want them to get taken away that's why he's such an ass and approves of 'pro-templar' choices#in act 1 he's not pro-templar himself but kissing a little templar ass is how you avoid being arrested#'why yes cullen you are so right the templars are so cool and sexy' my hawke says through gritted teeth for that +5 friendship#look i love him okay he's my favorite and i will go the extra mile to make him happy and it's worth it for how much softer can be later on#honestly maxing out his friendship isn't hard if you're aware of what quests you're bringing him on and make him a grey warden#oh but you do need the legacy dlc otherwise you can't fully max friendship out... you can still get enough to change his dialogue/attitude#also like... we the player know hawke won't be arrested like they're not in any actual dangers from the templars as the playable character#but carver doesn't know that and neither does hawke so the templars *are* a real threat to them#and it's incredibly reckless to purposely piss off templars AND selfish because it's not just hawke that'll be arrested it's their family#for harboring them like we witness templars going after people hiding apostates soooo.....#i'm just saying that carver isn't irrational or just being an ass to personally annoy you okay he has cause#also once carver's a warden and ed has money and the estate THEN he's way more open about telling the templars to piss off#sigh one day i'll sit down and write an essay about carver.... one day
91 notes · View notes
good-beanswrites · 3 months
Text
Happy Valentine's Day @artsy-azure ! Here's your gift for the @milgram-valentines-exchange 💖
Fuuta x Minato (oc) ~ The first section takes place right after his T2 interrogation, and then skips ahead to a tiny post-milgram scene :3 I hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
Fuuta thought he would drown. Not sink into water or anything like that; he was worried the voices filling his mind would completely suffocate him. There were too many of them. Too many people, all of them knowing every dark corner of his mind, and shouting into it. It should have been impossible for one voice – one softer than all the rest – to reach him.
Then again, everything about that voice should have been impossible.
“Fuuta… Hey, Fuuta… Are you alright?”
He blinked. He scrambled over to the nearest wall. There were no visible openings in the cell, not a single imperfection across any of the surfaces, yet Milgram’s intercom system functioned just fine. Most days it would just deliver the ear-rattling bell to tell him the time. On bad days, it carried Es’ summons to the interrogation room for his extraction. On worse days, it carried Es’ summons to the courtroom for his verdict.
On the very best days, it would bring him the voice of Hoshizawa Minato.
(Though, seeing as he had just returned from a catastrophic extraction, he wasn’t sure what type of day it was yet.)
He tore his attention away from the chorus of judgements and insults. He pressed his shoulder against the wall, still unsure where the sound was coming from, but knowing it was nearby.
“I’m here,” he said, hushed. More than anything he wanted to yell and scream, but he would never risk it, now. Minato had gone through a hell of a lot to break into Milgram’s systems, and he wouldn’t let his big mouth ruin all that. It had already ruined just about everything else.
“How are you holding up?”
Fuuta pressed his lips together. “Any news on getting us out of here?” was all he said.
Hundreds of miles away (or perhaps next door – neither of them could really know), Minato’s fingers adjusted his headset.
“I’m still working on it. These things take time.” 
“I’m definitely gonna need it after today.” 
“Your interrogation… I know.”
Fuuta pulled his hood down tighter, tufts of ginger hair ruffling underneath. “How much did you see?” 
Minato’s eyes flicked over to another monitor. It displayed the files he’d gained access to a few hours prior. It would crush Fuuta to hear about yet another person peeking into his personal moments, so he opted for a non-answer.
“I don’t have cameras. I don’t see much at all.”
“Tch, I’m not a damn idiot, I know that! I meant, how much did you hear?”
“...Everything.” 
Fuuta squeezed his eye shut. He bit a curse back. There came silence.
Minato actually double checked some of his monitors, making sure they hadn’t been disconnected.
“So then, you know,” Fuuta said at last. “There’s no fucking way I’m getting forgiven this time around.”
“You can’t be so sure. The–”
“No one in their right mind would forgive me after that.” He winced, remembering his harsh cries at the end of the interrogation. What kind of accused murderer shouted “I’ll kill you” as their plea of innocence? When he wasn’t running his mouth with threats, he’d been pleading with Es like some kind of coward. And Minato has heard all of it. Fuuta could only imagine the horrors that the extraction held. Who could forgive him after they saw his anger, or worse, his pleasure? Who could ever look kindly on someone like that?
“I would.”
Fuuta’s eyes widened. He let himself sink further into the wall. A strangled laugh escaped him. He let his head hang down. No matter how much he wanted to protest, Minato was as honest as they come. If he said he forgave Fuuta, he meant it. 
“Yeah, like I said, no one in their right mind.”
Minato cracked a smile. 
“You don’t think I’m in my right mind?”
Fuuta scoffed. “You post pictures of clothes for a living. And in your free time, you plan impossible jailbreaks for murderers. Doesn’t sound quite sane to me.”
“Aw, come on. Do you think it’s impossible?” 
Minato was still smirking, ready for some more of their typical back and forth. Fuuta surprised him by pausing. 
“Well, it should be impossible. But…”
They’d been speaking for some time now. Whether it was quick comments when Es wasn’t around or long conversations into the night. Fuuta had seen many sides of him, and knew that he had what it took. He wasn’t like the vast majority of internet personalities – weak or needy or inexperienced. He’d proved himself time and time again. If anyone could pull this off, it would be Minato. 
“If it’s you… there’s a chance.”
“You’ve got that right. You can count on me, alright?”
Fuuta took a deep breath. The tightness of the uniform and the bandages seemed to lessen.
“Although,” Minato put on a falsely serious voice, “we’re gonna have a long talk when you get out… about that yellow jacket you own.”
“Haaah? What’s wrong with my jacket?’
“There are a hundred stylish ways to wear it and that was not one.”
“The fuck does that mean?” 
“You’ll be grateful when someone who ‘posts pictures of clothes for a living’ helps with your wardrobe.” 
Fuuta could feel his chest release even more. Minato spoke so easily about the future, as if it were something real and waiting for him. 
“As if I’d let you touch any of my outfits.”
“As if you could stop me!”
He took another breath. He smiled. No drowning today.
---
After checking the clock fourteen times, Fuuta thought once more couldn’t hurt. It was still two minutes to noon, just like the last few times he’d checked. His frequent checking hadn’t brought the train to the station any faster.
Minato had told him that he was safe. He’d said this meeting wasn’t that big of a risk. The dust had settled. He just had to relax. 
The announcement overhead signaled the next stop was his. It screeched into the station, a slight murmur rising as the doors opened onto a platform of moving people. 
Fuuta lowered his head. His eyepatch would surely draw attention to himself, so he kept his hood down and his mask up. He just needed to make it to the station entrance. 
He made his way around stiff businessmen and sticky children. He tried to shuffle around a young man, but he seemed to step further into Fuuta’s path. Giving the stranger a quick glance, he started to mumble something to squeeze past. 
“Fuuta,” the man said, gaping in surprise. “It’s me.”
He inhaled sharply.
It was only three words, but it was enough to recognize his voice from a thousand conversations. 
Fuuta’s eye widened as he took Minato in. It was strange to finally see his face. Finally, here was the person he’d spent hours talking to. The person he’d spent days passing the time with. The person he’d spent nights falling for. Here was the one who had saved his life, in more ways than he could count.
His first observation was, fuck, this guy is way outta my league. His next was, he’s shorter than I was expecting. Then, gah, I’m probably shorter than he was expecting. He was in the middle of realizing, he has the nicest smile I think I’ve ever seen, when Minato crushed him in a hug.
Fuuta returned the embrace. His arms tightened around Minato. He was real. He was here. Fuuta’s hands grasped at his clothes and his hair. He was unable to control a laugh bubbling up inside of him. 
“You did it. My god, you did it.”
He breathed into Minato’s shoulder. His chest shook with some laughter, some tears. 
For a moment wondered if people would notice the heartfelt reunion outside of the train, then he realized he didn’t care in the slightest. 
Minato was laughing along with him in that beautiful, familiar voice of his. No more crackling speakers or hidden intercoms – he spoke right into his ear, hair tickling his cheek. Fuuta could have stayed forever in his arms, just like that. All that mattered was he felt safe. At last, he felt happy.
Talk about impossible. 
21 notes · View notes
perkeleen-lavellan · 2 months
Text
I feel like the Blight year just does something to Valo, so that when the Grey Wardens make their inquiries and ask him how did he survive killing the archdemon, he just goes "Idk I guess I'm just built like that."
8 notes · View notes
hyperbali · 1 year
Text
Can't believe Hatsune Miku voiced Alistair AND Cullen AND Anders. We stan a talented queen
57 notes · View notes
luminarycrab · 3 months
Text
NEW VIDEO SPOILERS
guys. guys. this sucks. he’s coming back right? he’s been here since season 1 of freelancer he can’t just go on like that guys gUYS HES COMING BACK RIGHT HE CANT GO OUT LIKE THAT RIGHT??
6 notes · View notes
rosykims · 1 year
Text
i cannot believe im saying this but i think oghr*n is unironically one of elspeth's closest friends
7 notes · View notes
missrosiewolf · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
And so now — after an hour of figuring out where to find the DAUpdater application, downloading some mods to use the console, and downloading the necessary armor mod — Dany (and Anders) look like Grey Wardens now :D
2 notes · View notes
nerdpoe · 1 year
Text
The One Unaccounted For
Danny had never seen Skulker look so pleased.
Normally the ghost was always at least a little happy to duke it out with Danny, but this? The ghost was positively vibrating with excitement.
"Okay, okay, time out. What's going on, man?" Danny had to call out, launching himself above a shot and hovering there.
Skulker fucking giggled. Skulker. Giggled.
"I have been hired by the Observants to hunt down a formidable foe. Our battle-" "-Will be glorious." Danny finished, much to the confusion of the ghost who had not been around for such refined culture.
"Yes! They also insist I bring another ghost, just in case it is 'too much' for me. Walker will not leave the Zone, Ember is still angry with me, Johnny and Kitty told me to..." Skulker cleared his throat, glancing at Danny, "And the last ghost I can think of is you, and I know you'll come to at least watch."
Danny's curiosity was piqued, he wasn't going to lie to himself. He still had to act like he needed to think about it though.
"Uh-huh, and who are you going after?"
Skulker almost started vibrating as he began his description.
"It is a ghost who has continuously evaded Walker, and caused so much strife and mayhem that even the Observants seek to drag him to confinement. He hides in the mortal world, in the city that knows no day, and alters the memories of that entire city."
So Danny was actually a bit on board with hunting this dude, actually. Memory manipulation was not cool.
"This ghost loves to torture mortals and claims it is for fun. Once! Once, he altered the memory of a young boy hero, to make him think he'd been tortured, and then altered the memory of the boy's mentor to believe that the boy was dead, all so that the boy would be buried alive. For fun. Then he almost completely wiped the boys memories of his life prior to being buried."
Skulker was beginning to actually get angry just retelling the story, and Danny was right there with him. Graves were sacred, and any ghost knew that. There was a ghost that willingly desecrated them? No wonder Walker wanted him.
If anything, Danny had to think that Skulker had glossed over Walker because he was positive that the Warden was foaming at the mouth just thinking about this criminal.
There was just one thing.
"So why do the Observants want in on this?"
Unless this ghost was actively threatening the balance of Life and Death, there really was no need to go after him.
"Because he has interfered with and altered the denizens of that city so much that the majority of them, if not all of them, are becoming as your puny mortal friends. Can you imagine that? A Living, a Mortal, blessed with the powers of Death. There are reports that one twisted their own time so much, he is now forever alive."
"Okay, that's super concerning. How did he do that?"
Skulker floated closer, almost like this was a gossip session in a sleepover.
"We believe he may have hidden a portal or twelve in the city of Gotham. He wears the semblance of a deranged clown, and is obsessed with laughter."
Well. Shit. Danny knew who they were after, he just hadn't know that Joker was actually one of their own. Half of his own?
"Fuck it, let's go drag the dude into the afterlife." He swore he heard a quiet squeal from the giant robot, but elected to ignore it.
He had to figure out how to either outsmart or work with the Big Bat himself, and he wasn't sure which would be better.
4K notes · View notes
Text
What must it be like to be on a server with Doc? Every time he posts in the Hermitcraft Discord server must be absolutely insane.
Is anyone available to help me kill 3 wardens that got loose on the nether roof? Sorry actually it might be more like 20
Hey if it's not too much trouble, could no one log on for the next 30 minutes? I'm trying to transport an ender dragon I pulled into the overworld and loading chunks could mess it up
Anyone want to play a children's card game? I outsourced my deck building to a think tank made of hundreds of people and I want to absolutely destroy someone in a match
Does someone know a good rap artist to collab with? I want to make an anthem for the nation I founded in my massive hole of a base and Snoop Dog never got back to me
So we're not having a team meeting, just an informal brainstorming session? Cool, can I invite Christopher Paolini? Yeah the guy who wrote the Eragon books
If you see any ghasts flying over spawn town, I released like 30 of them as a prank. There should be like 2 left so don't kill them, they're an endangered species
I left that shulker at spawn FOR A REASON. Whoever took it, YOU KNOW WHAT I'M CAPABLE OF. RETURN IT OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES
Just a heads up guys, I'm inviting some Mojang devs on to the server so I can show them the cannon I made that can shoot an arrow through 3000 solid blocks in one tick and immediately destroys a full set of netherite armor
Grian was annoying me so I built a cannon that shoots charged creepers at his base with startling accuracy. Then he used it for his own gain so I build a goat mech that poops explosives to guard my base. What do you mean that's not how normal people handle disputes? He's clearly the unhinged one!
Be careful going into my base, I have a pet warden at the bottom of the perimeter. No, a PET. Yes it's there on purpose, his name is King
No one touch the chunk loader at spawn, I'm using it to transport items thousands of blocks instantly. No, of course it's not an intended feature but I still managed to pull it off in vanilla, didn't I?
How did the world eater go? Well I needed to use 3 minecraft accounts so it would run properly and at one point it was disrupted by solar flares, which I think might have been God trying to strike me down for my hubris. But other than that, yeah it went well!
Please note that these examples are ONLY FROM SEASON 9
7K notes · View notes
Text
the thing is, nate and anders are regularly hooking up, very possibly dating, and velanna and sigrun are dating, and nate and velanna have chemistry and are maybe sliding into the start of a relationship with each other, and you would think justice and anders maybe have something going on but at this point in their lives they are just friends, its velanna who is actually willing to engage with justice on issues of oppression and its actually nate that is putting feelers out for something more with justice, and sigrun and justice dont quite understand each other but in a different way than they both dont get understand normal people, they are very much on a shared autistic to autistic communication wavelength so they are bros in that manner. meanwhile the primary tone of interpersonal relation between anders and velanna is awkward metamours and sigrun is willing to be friends with anders but he hasnt quite figured out how to do that. 
and this is normal, this is the baseline state of my understanding of the awakening polycule before any other factors. different warden commanders bring different dynamics and potential additional entanglements to the table. 
#anyway but madlad surana is still my fav complicating factor to this#nate and surana both fully believe surana is dating their respective partners and very possibly them as well#that he is an active component in all these relationships including their own burgeoning one. but hes not. surana is just being bros#undersocialized circle boy (gender neutral) disorder#the sleeping in other peoples beds? the bringing people food and gifts? the leaving bite marks and hickeys on anyone who lets him?#thats just surana being surana babey. plus the. yknow. circle-specific traumas and socialization#anders is too used to this to really understand what could potentially be weird about it#sigrun is new to it but considers it cool and fun bonding friendship times (only one who gets it)#nate finds a string of bite marks on anders inner thigh that definitely had to involve a lack of coverings to make and anders is just like#'yeah well you know how it is with surana' but no. nate does not know how it is. why wouldnt he think surana was dating them?#nate and velanna having like serious discussions about how to include surana for a date night#theyre not opposed to the idea of surana being involved in their relationship or anything. to clarify. both of them are looking#at this guy (gender neutral) and being like 'yes. this' its not that they dont want to be dating surana they are just looking to hash out#the how and why and think thats already the case and are thrown off when anders and sigrun are like 'lol what? no thats not it'#*'nate and velanna' all the way back at second tag lmao. im not redoing all that to fix it#if justice was not in a corpse surana would be biting him and bringing him food as well obviously btw#as it stands he cant have food and the biting would accelerate the breakdown of his current vessel :( but dont worry in our timelines we#can have our warden actually show up again later and then anders and justice can get the surana experience again#surana (having a romantic candlelit dinner with nate and velanna): this is so cool i love my friends ^_^#sigrun (being bit by a mildly feral elf who brings her cheesy rolls from the dining hall) this is so cool i love my friend ^_^
0 notes
Text
One of Us is Guilty; Chapter 3
Three are now dead, but the killer seems to be caught ... but this night is not over until the room is found.
Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Silver, Cater Diamond
Content; Unreliable narrators, murder mystery
Content Warning; Death, murder, blood, anxiety, kidnapping, overall dead dove content warnings
Word Count; 1.1 K
Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Link to the Google Form to vote!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)
Tumblr media
The body count had risen to three; Dire Crowley, the Ramshackle Prefect (whose blood still stained the floor, the iron scent permeating the air), and now, Divus Crewel as well, the latest victim. One minute the professor was alive, shaking from anger that one of his students was killed on his watch and that he was the prime suspect of the killings. But now he was sprawled out on the ground, killed in an instant.
The remaining students — Vil, Rook, Azul, Jade, Silver, and Cater — were silent, processing what exactly had just happened. The lights had flickered only for a minute, and in that minute, the killer had struck. But the silence was broken by a deafening clap of thunder, lightning illuminating the windows, and bringing everyone back to the present, to their laughably horrible situation that they had found themselves in by sheer chance and bad luck and timing.
Silver sat down on the staircase, and put his head in between his legs, taking deep breaths. Despite his training, he did not consider that he would be witnessing death so soon. The small part of his brain that had a sliver of hope that his friend had survived their gruesome injury, but he was just lying to himself; no one could survive that.
Vil was pacing, hands clasped behind his back, and he was muttering to himself. He thought he could read people, what with being raised amongst the stars that hid behind too-sweet smiles that belied venomous words. What was there to gain from any of this?
Rook was cracking his knuckles, and then rubbing his eyes, trying to think of why this was happening. While he could appreciate the hunt, this was something entirely different. Yet, it also reminded him of several books; one being a murder mystery, and the other about the deadliest game, of hunting a fellow person.
Azul was shaking and biting his nails, his resolve long gone. Had he made himself the enemy of one of his peers? Was he going to be next? He was supposed to just be perfecting a potion recipe for the next test, yet he found himself way above his head.
Jade looked at Azul, taking in that his house warden and friend was shaking more than the leaves outside in the howling wind. He too was disturbed by the night's events, sick to his stomach even, but he couldn’t show weakness, especially if he wanted to see it through.
And Cater? He was paler than a ghost, a cold sweat glistening on his forehead, and he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his throat. His cheery smile had left long ago, and now panic was fully starting to take control. Why? Why? Whywhywhy? WHY?! Yet he stayed silent.
No one spoke, but they eyed each other with caution. Every time that they had went to the mirror and they voted through it, someone died. Was it the mirror? No… no, that didn’t make sense… None of this made any sense though. 
“No more votin-” Silver whispered.
Cater cracked his head around, green eyes judging every move the underclassman made. “And why’s that, Silver?” His voice was shaky, but Cater wasn’t trusting him or anyone for that matter. “Afraid that-”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Vil barked, commanding everyone’s attention, eyes all on him. But he was used to eyes being on him, and he stayed cool, despite how this may damn him into being guilty in their eyes. He didn’t care at the moment though, all he cared about was no one else dying. “Look at what being suspicious of each other has brought us,” his eyes wandered to the dark clotted blood that had now gone cold. He swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, keeping the calm mask up. “I agree with Silver though; voting through the mirror only ends up with someone… dead.”
“Then how do we proceed, Roi du Poison?” Rook asked, falling to his house warden’s side. His eyes looked over everyone, picking up their behaviours, emotions, and any tells.
Azul’s head snapped up. “The potion-” he started muttering to himself, before clearing his throat and gaining his composure again. “A truth potion, but one that shows the truth about the situation, we can use that to find the killer.”
Cater looked at Silver, and offered him his hand; a peace offering. Silver took it, and brought himself up on wobbly knees. A truce.
Jade placed his hand on Azul’s shoulder, offering him a bit of comfort that not everyone was out to get him. “Was that what you were working on?”
Azul nodded, and he started making his way towards the alchemy lab, where hopefully they could put an end to the killer’s little charade once and for all.
Vil helped Azul make the potion, and both students kept a keen eye on the other, but they made it without incident. And to show the others that they hadn’t tampered with it at all, they took it first, with the others shortly following suit.
“What about the room?” Silver asked.
“We can figure that out once we find the killer,” Jade countered.
Everyone looked at each other, taking in any minute details, but everyone was calm; the potion apparently did wonders to calm the nerves… but that in itself was a dangerous effect, since now everyone’s guards were down, making them easy targets.
Vil took in a breath and released it. “Who killed Dire Crowley? Why did you then kill the Prefect, and then Professor Crewel?” 
But no one spoke up.
“It isn’t me,” Vil said confidently, hoping that his speaking up prompted the others to follow suit.
Cater was to his left, and he spoke next. “I didn’t do it.”
Then Silver, “Or me… I couldn’t do something like this…”
“I did not do it either,” Jade offered.
Azul’s eyes went wide, and he eyed the next person in line. “The killer isn’t me.”
All eyes fell on the last person left in their little circle; Rook. With all of them but him left, that only left him.
He let out a throaty, quiet, chuckle. “I suppose this game has run its course,” he tipped his hat to them, green eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light. “As for why? Hmmm,” he hummed, and the hairs on everyone’s necks stood on end. There was something off about Rook, this wasn’t Rook. 
“You’ll find that out when you guess the room.”
What?
Everyone took a step closer to each other, away from Rook, and they whispered amongst each other, voting on what room Crowley’s murder took place in.
“Alchemy lab,” Cater spoke for the group, trying to keep his resolve as Rook seemed to stare into the very contents of his soul, like he was searching for something.
Rook stepped forward, still smiling. “Ah, désolé Monsieur Magicam,” the whites of his eyes started turning black, “but you would be wrong.” The lights flickered again, and in the seconds of darkness, Rook was gone, and so was Cater.
Tumblr media
GOOGLE FORM (voting will end Wednesday, October 18th at 9pm EST)
SUSPECTS:
- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley’s co-worker (Peacock) DECEASED - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what’s happening (Mustard) MURDERER - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the ‘house-keeper’, a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) DECEASED - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach) MISSING
ROOMS:
- Main hall (eliminated in Chapter 2) - Teachers’ lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab (eliminated in Chapter 3) - Library - Crowley’s office (eliminated in Chapter 1)
WEAPON: MAGIC (found in Chapter 2)
To be continued
869 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
Hi Jade!! 💛💛 Omg obsessed with soulmate prince Steve au 🥰. Every au you write is perfection Can I request a scenario in which prince Steve actually witnesses someone say something to her about how she’s not good enough for the prince and how he’d react to that/ reassure her?
prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.2k
Your palatial bedroom is a gem to the eye. You've a huge window from which gauzy orange light seeps, the golden hour of your twentieth day coming to an end. Soon, night will be upon you, and with the night comes Prince Steven. Or, as he prefers, Steve.  
He spends the days battling his overbearing mother and her team of 'professional shitheads' as the wedding fast approaches, advocating for you where you can't. You may be his soul mate, but your lack of royal blood means you've no choice in any of their plans. You hadn't been allowed to choose your dress, your vows, or even your jewellery. 
Well, originally. "It's your wedding," Steve had said, giving your hand a reassuring hold, "not just mine, and definitely not theirs. You'll be allowed to wear, and say, and do whatever you want. I'm lucky you agreed to marry me at all." 
You don't regret agreeing to marry him, but it wasn't what you pictured. He didn't propose, and you aren't in love. Your soul marks assure you that one day you will be. The volume of their light and how restless they become around the other evidences a mutual attraction if nothing else, and the rosy hue they take when you touch spares nothing. 
A mutual crush doesn't normally mean you'd marry someone, though. But it isn't exactly unheard of in your culture either. Soul mates are soul mates —it's on the tin. 
Why wait to get married when you know you'll fall in love for life? 
Maybe because that love is extremely daunting, a little voice says at the back of your head. Because Steve is still a stranger. 
An acquaintance might be more accurate. If he continues to be so dramatically nice you might skip friendship altogether, your stomach a heat at the memory of his hand on your chin and the subtle warmth of his gaze as he laid your doubts to rest. You worried to him that you couldn't be a Princess, and while he hadn't shared the sentiment, others do. 
You leave the haven of your room in hopes of a glass of juice and a tonic for your headache (all you've done for days is grind your teeth), and become turned around looking for the kitchens 
"She is so boringly normal. I thought the Prince would have a special soul mate, is that stupid? I thought she'd be gorgeous, or smart, or talented at something, like piano." The servant hits her racket against the rug with a laugh. "She's just one of us. Lucky bitch." 
Which isn't the worst of it. Not truly offensive. You're nothing special, and if you didn't know it already, finding your soulmate cemented it. 
This bit hurts, though. "She's surprisingly ugly, I thought," says the other servant. "Imagine when they project their engagement photos in the central city. That is not a face you want to see in sixteen k." 
Your head bumps into the alcove wall with surprise as a throat clears. The servants look up in tandem, to your horror, seeing you standing in the shade like a creeper, but they see straight past you. You follow their gaze. 
"That's not fair or appropriate, is it?" Steve asks, in his strange princely tone. "The future princess is just as beautiful as you ladies, but she has a much nicer attitude, yeah?" 
Steve puts his hand on your shoulder and walks you away. You feel like you're in trouble, being marched by the class warden to the principal's office.
He stops you in the cool stone walkway that leads from the garden. You can smell the kitchen you'd been looking for, the buttery smell of capers and brewing edelweiss tea on the breeze. The night dawns, sconces with teal and lime light painting his skin baby blue. 
"Sorry I didn't sanction them. I think that the anxiety that I'm gonna tell on them does more than the actual–" Steve stops short. "Hey, are you crying?" 
You're not crying, but you may be a little sniffly. You turn your head away from him and he pulls it right back, his lips parted in shock. 
"You don't believe them," he says incredulously.
The stress in your life these last few weeks has been akin to a tightrope walker, and the insults (the embarrassment, knowing he heard) are a strong wobble. 
"Sorry," you say, your lips barely parted. You try to look away from him but his hand is steadfast on your cheek. 
It's so odd to be treated with tenderness by someone you don't really know. His soul mark burns a muted pinky-red at the pulse of his wrist. It's genuine affection, even if you feel like you don't deserve it. 
"I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe I should go back and have them do domestic duties for the week."
"No, I'm being stupid. They don't have to think I'm pretty–" 
"Well, they should, but that's not really what happened… Why are you down here? I was looking for you." 
"You were?" you ask. 
"I usually am. I tried to get out of fencing but they wouldn't let me leave," he explains, his hand moving up your face in little grabs, almost as though he's checking you over for injury. Eyes held, Steve smiles at you encouragingly. "Why were you down here?" 
"To get something to drink," you say. 
"And you didn't want to ask one of the ten people waiting desperately for you to need something?" he asks with a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. The phantom of it remains, heat in the shape of his fingers pressed into your cheek.
"It feels weird." 
"You can call for me instead and I could get you a drink. Just until you know where the kitchen is. Or I can make you a map." 
"A map," you say, biting back a smile. 
"Is that funny?" 
"No…" 
Steve curls a hand behind your shoulder. "We're not gonna get along," he says, his tone suggesting wildly otherwise. "I can tell. Let's get you that drink, okay?" 
"Okay. Sorry for, um, getting all emotional on you." 
"'In good times and bad,'" he says. Your heart doesn't leap, it springs from your chest. He's a prince, and he's beautiful, and now he's throwing wedding vows at you like it's nothing? 
You smile at your shoes all the way to the kitchens, where Steve ushers you in front of him to go first, and says in your ear, "For the record, I'm personally super excited to see you on the holo screens, but I don't think it's gonna compare to the real thing." He directs you by the waist gently, a twin of the way he'd held you in your engagement photos. Deft hand nestled against the fat of your hip, blue silk of your ceremonial kissing your thighs. You'd felt really pretty, if only because he touched you without hesitation. "You are the farthest thing from ugly I've ever seen." 
708 notes · View notes
lizaoverlord · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
An ominous conversation with Deimos' warlock patron. It was such a cool moment in our DnD campaign! A fun little detail in this scene was that uhm.. both Vannatir and Deimos were in the middle of getting dressed again. (Because.. well.. you know~!)
When Vannatir suddenly said that, about immortality, it was definitely a ‘blood runs cold’ kind of moment for Deimos. When I/Deimos replied with the ‘I- …what?” I then added “Deimos has stopped buttoning up his coat.”
The GM then narrated that Vannatir was stepping towards Deimos. He then ended it with Vannatir starting to neatly close Deimos’ coat himself while still speaking. Right before sending Deimos back to his DnD party, the Grey Wardens.
632 notes · View notes
pullhisteeth · 7 months
Note
Hi, lovely! Just wanted to drop by and say that I miss you and your amazing writing 🥹🧡 I understand if you're taking a break or stepping away from the app, but if you're up for it, I was wondering if I could drop in a request? No pressure at all! I REALLY love the way you write fluffy and angsty fics so I was wondering if you could write about a besties-to-lovers with Eddie where he asks the reader for help with asking a different girl out, without knowing about reader's feelings for him...and then along the way he realizes his feelings for the reader hehe and maybe a lil sprinkle of jealous!Eddie too 😎 Ily and I hope you're doing okay! 🩷🩷🩷
hi my love! this is the sweetest message thank you - not taking an intentional break, just busy as anything. work’s been my whole life the past couple weeks (today is actually my first day off in like a month) and what with that and trying to eat/sleep/speak to other human beings I am …… deceased
it’s so kind of you to say hello! I loved writing your request, it was a nice break for my brain and it felt good to get back into it. ♡ love you!
contains hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. tried to get some jealous!eddie in there for you :-)
3.4k
-
Eddie looks pretty like this.
He’s sitting at your desk in the library. You’re not sure why he’s here, though that wasn’t your first thought when you spotted him on your way over. He’s hunched over slightly, unruly hair keeping his face hidden, but it’s catching the light of the afternoon sun just right and it’s glowing a blushing golden and the flutters in your gut are relentless.
“Hey,” you murmur, wary of both startling him, and the strict Hawkins Library warden who likes to shush people like it’s a sport. Regardless he starts, shoulders jumping and face whipping up and around to look at you with wide, surprised eyes that soften when he realises who you are.
“Hi, sugar,” he says, voice ebbing as he notices how loud he’s being. He looks around quickly, just in case he’s about to get scolded, before looking back up at you and beaming. It doesn’t fool you, though; his presence here coupled with the sheen of anxiety behind his eyes gives him away.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, setting your backpack down on the table and taking the seat opposite him.
He begins fiddling with his ring again and diverts his eye. He’s nervous and you want to know how to fix it more than you wish to let on.
You hum an encouraging noise when he says nothing, sliding textbooks out of your bag along with your pens.
“I, uh… I need your help,” he says warily.
“Oh? With what?”
“I want to, uh… I wanna ask Tara out,” he says, and the words come out in one quick breath, his eyes still on his hands. “But I dunno how.”
You’re quiet, busy hands halting with a book halfway open. You look at him, mouth agape, for a second too long - he looks up after a beat and catches you before you have the sense to close it.
“Please?” he begs, those eyes like a puppy dog, wide and brown and far too lovable. “I’d take her to the Hawk but she’s- Man, she’s way too cool, it’s intimidating, and I really wanna impress her, you know? And I think the Hawk’ll be too busy on Friday ‘cause I know that new movie’s out that all the kids wanna see, so what if-”
“Okay,” you say. You’re sharp, voice like a whip, cutting him off before he derails.
He looks at you blankly for a second before saying, “Really? Shit, thank you.”
You look down at the books in front of you, eyes on the printed pages but taking nothing in. “Take her to the Garage,” you tell him quietly.
“What?”
“The Garage,” you repeat, closing the textbook and piling it on top of the others to return them to your bag. “It’s on the east side, on the road out.”
“Yeah, I know where the Garage is, but- Wait, are you headin’ out already? You just got here.”
“Don’t feel like studying,” you say flatly. “The Garage is cool. Rob took me there once. Tara’d love it.”
“Hey, hey-” His restless hands reach over to grip your wrist, to stop you moving, but you’re slippery and quick and far too determined on leaving. “You don’t have to leave, I’ll leave you alone. Your exam’s next week, I don’t wanna-”
“It’s fine, Eddie, I’ll study tomorrow.”
“But-”
“See you around,” you say quickly, tugging on the zipper on your bag and standing so fast it makes your head spin. You can hear him protesting behind you but it’s no use - the only place you want to be right now is home.
-
Eddie doesn’t call that evening. He doesn’t call the next day either, or the two following that. You float between your bed, the fridge and various shifts at work without so much as daring to call him yourself, though you lie awake at night and worry you’ve done something terrible, something earth-shatteringly cruel by leaving him like you did. Something so bad that twelve years of friendship is lost forever.
“Maybe it’s better like this,” you tell Nancy over the phone. It’s Thursday night, four days until your exam, and you haven’t spoken to Eddie since Sunday. “I was gonna spend forever like that. Maybe now I can move on or somethin’.”
“We both know you’re not going to move on,” she tells you. You groan, turning over onto your back to stare at your bedroom ceiling. Your bed is like a rotten pit, unmade for nearly a week and the past five days’ dirty (and clean) laundry is littered all over the top of the comforter. “And you shouldn’t. You’d just be hiding from your feelings.”
“I hate you,” you tell her, though the way your voice comes out through your smile deceives you. “You always sound so wise, how is that?”
“I am wise,” she says, smiling too. “And I’m wise enough to know that Eddie feels the same, even if he doesn’t realise it yet. Apparently I’ve got the brains for both of us, ‘cause he’s a bit dumb like that sometimes.”
“I wish he wasn’t,” you whine, “I can’t get the image of him and Tara outta my head.”
“I can go, if you want,” she says.
“Huh?”
“I can take Rob to the Garage on Friday, keep an eye on stuff.”
“Shit, would you?”
“Yeah, why not? What’re you doing that night anyway?”
“Dunno,” you say, morose, “Probably heading to the library again.”
“Okay,” she says sympathetically. “You’re gonna smash this exam, you know that, right?”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” you grumble.”
“Well I know you will. And then Indiana State’ll have the best biologist known to man on their campus.”
“Funny,” you say.
“I’m wise and funny? You’re kind tonight.”
“I’m gonna go, Nance.”
“Okay,” she says, laughing. “I’ll call on Saturday, okay? And please eat some dinner.”
“Okay,” you reply, hanging up. You balance the receiver back on its stand and roll back over, willing the tears back when you feel them roll down your temples.
-
Friday nights are your favourite nights at the library.
Who else spends the one designated social evening of the week in a room designed for quiet? You, apparently, alongside two old ladies knitting in the comfy corner, and a kid who looks like he might be home from college for the holidays. You’re settled at your usual desk with textbooks and papers scattered everywhere - the tabletop, the chair next to you, the floor. You’ve been here for hours, pouring over all of your work, oblivious to most of the minimal movement and chatter happening in the room.
You’ve got a tape in your Walkman - classical, one your dad found at the record store downtown - so you feel Eddie before you see him. He startles you, his wide hand on your shoulder, and you jump, pulling your headphones down.
“Fucking hell,” you breathe, your heart beating a mile a minute. You twist in your seat and put your pen down, looking up at him. You couldn't worry about the warden if you tried, far too enamoured by him despite everything. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He’s hovering over you, his hair a mess and cheeks flushed pink. You notice he has his nice shirt on - a deep blue, so dark it’s almost black - and his lips are rosy.
“Tara needed the bathroom on the way home, this was the closest place. How’s it going?”
There’s a lilt to his voice that churns your stomach. It’s the one he gets at parties, or that night just before your birthday when the two of you drank wine in his living room and didn’t sleep until six in the morning.
He’s been drinking and, judging by the smell lingering on his clothes, smoking, too, and his smile and the pink blooming over his cheeks only makes the churning worse.
“Fine,” you tell him. “Was in the zone, sorry.”
“No,” he breathes, finally backing away. You fill your lungs and watch him as he rounds the table. His eyes keep moving from you to the door across the room, presumably watching for her. “I interrupted you, ‘m’sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Gotta run,” he says, face brightening in a way that makes you want to vomit. You turn back around and see Tara in the doorway, waving, beaming. “Don’t work too hard, please? Get some sleep. And eat something- Have you eaten at all today?”
He’s standing a foot or two from the table now, but he stops as he asks you this.
“Uh,” you look down at your watch. 12:07am. “I had lunch.”
“Shit, you need’ta eat something. Please.”
“Okay, Eds. I’ll have some toast when I get home. Have a nice night.”
“You’ve got this,” he says, and it’s here that the silly smile on his face falters. He still hasn’t moved, and you can see Tara looking over, watching. He’s looking at you and something breaks - his smile drops completely and his eyes go all sad and weird.
“What?” you ask, unamused.
“Nothing,” he says. “Nothing. Get some sleep okay? See you later.”
He turns and walks across to the exit, and you watch him leave. He’s slow and slumped, like someone’s just delivered bad news.
You head out fifteen minutes later, and chew unhappily on three slices of toast before you get to bed.
-
Studying until late is never a good idea.
You’re hopping around your bedroom, pulling stockings up your legs and praying to anything holy that the traffic on your way into work isn’t too bad.
“I know this isn’t really what you wanted to hear,” Nancy’s saying sadly. You’ve got the receiver propped between your cheek and your shoulder as you stumble around and stretch the cord within an inch of its life. “They just… It really did look like they were having fun.”
“He came to see me at the library,” you tell her breathlessly, desperate to think of anything but Eddie and Tara playing pool and laughing like lovedrunk teenagers
“What? When? Last night?”
“Yeah, said she needed a piss on the way home.” You stop hopping, both stockings finally in place, and take the phone in your hand. “He was really weird, actually.”
“Weird how?”
“I dunno. He seemed happy, but then he got all sad.”
“Did you tell him off?” she asks, faux-stern.
“No,” you tell her, “just told him I’d have dinner, and to have a good night.”
She hums, and you look at the clock.
“Shit, Nance, I’m sorry, I really gotta go, I’m gonna be so late-”
“No, no, you go, I’ll see you soon. And good luck on Monday, yeah? I know you’ll ace it.” -
Your body takes you to the library like it’s on auto-pilot or something. You finished the entrance exam three hours ago, and though it seemed to go okay, you daren’t be too optimistic. You’d hovered around town for a while, eating ice cream and watching birds, before your feet walked you right here: your desk on the first floor of Hawkins Library.
It’s here that you’ve been sitting for an hour or so, flicking through novels but finding no interest in the words on the page. Your brain is melted from a near-fatal combination overworking and overthinking, and without an exam to worry about, the latter is now the one clocking overtime.
You can’t get the picture of Eddie’s face out of your head. His eyes had been so sad, his face drooping like the dawning of some cruel realisation. The way he’d walked out of the room had matched it, sorrowful and curled over.
Worst of all, he hasn’t called.
There’s only two reasons you can think of. Firstly, he’s busy calling Tara instead of you. He’s telling her about his day, spinning new inside jokes and letting her hear his pretty laugh.
Or second: he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. You’re too cold, flat, uninteresting. Tara is cool.
There is a third possibility that you daren’t think about for the sake of your own heart: that both are true.
You slam the hardback in your hands shut and place it roughly on the table.
“Woah, was it that bad?”
You look up and find Eddie standing across from you, precisely where he’d been that moment something had changed on Friday. He’s far less put together now, dressed in his usual bedraggled jacket and jeans.
He laughs as you stare at him. After a minute, he takes the seat opposite and pulls the book towards himself.
“Weird choice for you, sugar.”
“Quiet,” you tell him in a whisper, nodding to your right where the warden is circling.
“Sorry,” he whispers back with a smile. “What’re you still doing here? Wasn’t the exam this morning?”
“I like it here,” you tell him. A half-truth - you do, but you’d really rather be anywhere else right now.
“Right,” he says, clearly not buying it. “And how’d it go?”
You shrug. “Okay, I think. I hope.”
“You’re the smartest person I know. You’ll do great.”
“I wish people would stop saying that,” you say, looking out of the window to your left.
“What? That you’re smart?”
“That I’ll ace it. I have no idea.”
“No, you don’t,” he says. “But you’ve definitely got a better idea than me.”
“What’s that mean?” you ask, turning back to look at him.
“I just… You’ve got more brains than me, that’s all.”
He’s fiddling with his rings again, eyes trained on the tentative movements of his fingers rather than you. It gives you a chance to take in his face properly: tired, sallow, unhappy.
“How was Friday?” you chance. He shrugs. “Just okay?”
“Fine, yeah,” he says, voice flat and unfeeling. “Had fun, ‘til we came here.”
Your instinct is to be offended. You didn’t say anything cruel or unwarranted; in fact you barely said a thing at all. How could you have ruined the evening?
“What?”
“Tara, she, uh… She said bye when we left. I was walkin’ her home, only stopped here for the can, I mean- You know we’re miles from the park, took me forever to get back to mine. Thought, y’know…” You hum so he doesn’t have to utter the inevitable and break your heart.
“What happened?” you ask softly, hands on the table in front of you like an offering.
He looks troubled, truly, and it hurts - you may have gone a week without contact, the longest since he went on a fishing trip with Wayne when you were both 18, but he’s your best friend, and his pain is your pain.
He closes his eyes tight and sucks in a breath.
“When we left, she said… She told me I need to ‘really think about things’, which made no sense to me at the time, I guess ‘cause I was, like, 4 whiskey sours in and we’d smoked on the way over, and then she used the payphone outside to call a cab so I waited with her and walked home, and the next morning I realised what she meant.”
You look at him with nothing to say. He takes another deep breath.
“She probably saw me over here with you, y’know, and I’m sure to other people we seem pretty… Comfortable. And then you said you hadn’t eaten, and you looked so tired, I- All I wanted to do was take you home and make you dinner. And then the next morning, and, like, all weekend, all I could think was that one day some other guy’d be doin’ that for you, some college guy or somethin’, and I’d have to watch, ‘cause you’re my friend.”
“Eddie, I don’t understand.”
You’re genuinely bewildered. He’s still whispering, or at least talking in a low voice, and at multiple points during the past five minutes you thought you’d completely misheard him. It’s definitely your Eddie sitting opposite you - he has a tendency to be a little dramatic, and this is certainly that - but he’s never been so brashly honest like this with you before.
“I had fun with Tara, really, but… I realised I’d spent all night thinking about how much better it’d have been if you’d been there.”
You can feel the flush like fire up your neck and across your cheeks. Your palms are clammy so you pull them inwards, back towards yourself, to save yourself the embarrassment.
“I think I need to get some air,” you say, standing and leaving without waiting for him.
You hear him behind you as you descend the stairs and push the clunky glass door open. You’re met with a wall of cold air and you breathe a heaving sigh as you stand in its frost.
The door opens again only a few seconds later, and you turn to face your friend.
“Eddie,” you begin, “I need to know that you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me.”
“You left your coat,” is all he says, handing you the jacket. You don’t move, too stunned, so he steps behind you and you let him manipulate your arms into the sleeves like a sullen child.
“Eddie,” you bite, impatient and frustrated.
“Yeah,” he breathes behind you. When the coat’s on, he squeezes your shoulders, and you round on him.
“Please just tell me what the fuck is going-”
“I think I love you,” he says, louder than you. It’s a declaration, said without hesitation or subtlety. It’s so confidently loud that a couple of people leaving the library turn to look.
“It shouldn’t have taken me taking someone else out to realise it, but fuck, once I did I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I guess ‘cause we see each other all the time I never really questioned why I think about you so often, or whatever, but… I wanted to take you home and make you dinner on Friday, make sure you got some sleep, fuckin’ look after you. Made me feel dumb as hell because you’re not a kid or anythin’, but I just want you to be okay.”
You’re not sure when you started crying. Maybe it was as early as the declaration itself, but you know that by the time he told you he wants to take care of you, tears were rolling over your cheeks, unstoppable and filled with elation.
“Shit,” Eddie whispers, stepping toward you without thinking, reaching out to hold you somehow. He settles for a hand on your upper arm, almost at your shoulder. “Fuck, I’m sorry, please don’t cry, I-”
“It’s fine, I’m okay, I’m, uh- I’m happy,” you say, giggling, your tears making it wetter, thicker. “They’re happy tears.”
“Oh, good,” he breathes, shoulders sloping. You spot the beginning of a grin through cloudy vision. “Thank god.”
While you wipe your face with the sleeve of your jumper, Eddie’s hand moves from your shoulder and to your neck. You feel the heavy weight of him pressing there, not threatening but a comfort. It forces you closer, until you’re both looking at each other and laughing.
“The exam went really well,” you tell him. “Honest.”
“I knew it would,” he says, curling a finger behind your ear to move a piece of hair from your face. “You’re gonna kill it at college.”
“I’ll miss you. And everyone else.”
“We’re not going anywhere any time soon,” he says softly, fingers dancing until he’s cradling your face. His other hand is stuffed in his pocket, and you’re close enough that you can reach in and grasp it, pulling it out so you can wind your fingers between his. He looks down and smiles.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks. It’s almost a whisper and you almost miss it - almost. “For the exam, I mean. You did well, y’deserve a kiss.”
“Sure,” you say, laughing again. “For the exam, yeah.”
He chuckles before dipping his head just enough. You lift up to meet him halfway and he presses his lips to yours, firm but quick.
“Again,” you breathe, and he doesn’t ask questions. He bows again and kisses you, his force solid and homely. You kiss him back, breathless and keening.He’s warm and you want to take, take, take. You only stop when the door opens behind you again, creaking and followed by quick footsteps as someone else leaves.
Eddie kisses your nose and says, “Shit, you’re cold.”
“Can we go home?”
“No,” he says, and before you can finish protesting, he adds, “We have to celebrate. You’re done with studying! Let’s go get milkshakes or something.”
You wrinkle your nose, determined that you won’t be going to the diner you work in. “How about pizza?”
“Whatever you want, smartie pants.”
You physically bristle at the petname, cheeks flushing again despite the chill. Eddie’s arm settles around your shoulders and squeezes as he kisses your temple.
You stop walking once you reach the end of the block. He stops with you and turns to look at you without dropping your hand.
"I think I love you too, by the way," you tell him. "I didn't say- Back there, I should've said it. I- Well, I know I love you."
He smiles - beams - at your return of his declaration. He squeezes your hand in his and tugs.
"C'mon, pretty girl. Let's go."
-
415 notes · View notes
thealtoduck · 3 months
Text
Eye for an Eye
Tumblr media
Tim Drake x Riddler Sidekick!Male Reader
Batfamily x Riddler Sidekick!Male Reader (kinda..)
Warnings: Superhero stuff
Riddler Sidekick!Male Reader: Masterlist
Summary: You get another visit in Arkham…
——
The door to your cell was thrown open revealing one of the Arkham guards. You threw an annoyed glance towards him. ”What?” you questioned. ”You have another visitor” the guard said making you confused. ”It’s past visiting hours” you stated but the guard came up towards you and cuffed your hands anyway.
He then led you out of your room and through the hallways of Arkham but he didn’t lead you to the visiting rooms, he led you out of the inmate section and towards the staff section of the Asylum.
You however didn’t question it as you were curious to see where he would lead you. Then he stopped you outside the warden’s office belonging too ”Jeremiah Arkham”. The guard knocked and there came a muted ”Come in” from the inside.
The warden was sitting at his desk but he wasn’t alone, Batman and the Red Hood were also waiting for your arrival. Where was Tim? Had they not managed to save him. ”Welcome Clue, have a seat?” the Warden Arkham said. You did as told. ”You’ve already met our guests, Batman and the Red Hood” the Warden stated.
”I brought you here because they are in need of help as Riddler seems to have taken a hostage” he explained. ”I already helped them they were here this morning” you said. Batman then spoke up ”The Riddler wasn’t where you thought he’d be we need you to help us track him down”.
”I can’t do that from here” you stated. ”We know, we’re bringing you with us” Batman explained. You turned to the Warden and asked curiously ”Really? You agreed to it?”. ”Of course, we need to do whatever we can to rescue that poor hostage” the Warden said.
”And… what do i get for my help?” you questioned. ”Clue, i will personally look to have your sentence shortened” the Warden offered. You nodded and said ”Alright, i’m in” with a satisfied smirk.
——
You, Batman and the Red Hood made your way out of the Asylum. Your hands were still cuffed to make sure you wouldn’t try anything. The two vigilantes led you to the Batmobile. They opened the door to the back seat for you.
You sat down in it and looked around the inside of the infamous Batmobile. As the other two entered you found yourself saying ”This isn’t as cool as i thought it’d be”. ”What were you expecting?” Red Hood questioned already annoyed by your presence.
”I don’t know, something just something more exciting…” you told them, they didn’t respond. The three of you sat in silence as Batman started driving, leaving Arkham behind. ”So what’s the plan? Where do we start?”.
Bruce let out a sigh and said ”We did manage to find Riddler or at least a message from him, he demanded you in exhange for Tim or else he’d kill him”. ”So you- YOU lied to the warden, you didn’t need my help, you needed me for a trade” you realised.
Their silence told you that you were right. ”Damn Bats, freeing a criminal, what would the comissioner say?” you teased. The Batmobile eventually stopped outside a telephone booth. Batman and Red Hood got out, Red Hood opened the door for you and you got out.
”What are we doing here? Eddie dosen’t have a lair here” you questioned. ”We know, you’re giving him a call” Batman said pointing at the phone booth. ”He wanted to make sure we actually got you out before he revealed the location” Batman explained and handed you 50 cents and a note with a phone number written down on it.
You entered the phone booth, Red Hood squeezed himself in behind you, creating an uncomfortable closeness. You gave him a wondering look and he said ”Just so you and Riddler won’t plan anything”. You rolled your eyes and stated ”You’re lucky i won’t punch you, i didn’t even let him Tim stand this close to me and we were dating”.
You fed the 50 cents in to the payphone and tapped the number on the buttons, you held the headset to your ear as it dialed. Soon enough someone picked up. ”Batman! Is that you?” Eddie questioned. ”Wrong” you told him. ”Clue!” he exclaimed excitedly.
”I take it Batman got my message, tell him this riddle for to find my location ”I stand tall in the water surrounded by boats of all sizes, what am i?” Eddie said giddily, you rolled your eyes at the Riddle and said ”Come on Eddie, that’s the best one you can come up with, see you at the docks”.
”No you little- Batman was supposed to figure it out, don’t make me regret-” Eddie tantrumed as you hung up the phone. You and Red Hood exited the phonebooth, you turned to Batman and said ”He’s at the docks”.
The three of you got in to the Batmobile and Batman started speeding towards the docks.
——
You found Tim and Riddler waiting for the three of you at the docks. Tim’s body was battered as he was tied to a chair, a bomb strapped to the chair as well. Eddie stood a couple of feet away at the edge of the dock holding the detonator to the bomb, behind him in the water was a speedboat captained by Query and Echo, waiting for the two of you to be able to make a quick getaway.
”Welcome” Eddie said loudly. ”Thank you, Batman and Red Hood for reuniting me with my dear Clue” he tanked them mockingly. ”So here’s how this is gonna play out, Clue is gonna come over to me, we’ll boat away and leave you to rescue Robin, okay?” Eddie demanded madly.
Batman answered with a ”Alright”. Red Hood gave you a little push and you walked forward. You came closer towards the middle where Tim was sat, seeing him like this hurt. You knew you were meant to walk past him and join the Riddler in freedom but you still cared about Tim no matter everything that had happened between you.
You stopped in front of him and got down on your knees, Tim looked at you with a small smile. ”Uhm, what’s happening?! Clue, what are you doing?!” Eddie questioned confused but you ignored him. ”Are you okay?” you asked Tim brushing some hair out of his slightly bruised and dirtied face.
”I’ve been better” he answered humorously. ”Y/n, i’m sorry, i should’ve listened to you when i found Riddler’s plans instead of accusing you” Tim apologised. You cupped his cheeks and placed a kiss on his lips.
”It’s in the past” you uttered to him and remembered something. ”Hey, you know we never got to see that movie after the night at the motel, maybe we could see that together?” you suggested making Tim chuckle and say ”It’s a date”.
You gave Tim another kiss and stood up. ”Gotta go, my boat is waiting, don’t blow up while i’m gone” you said and walked to the Riddler. ”You’ve got some explaining to do” Eddie stated suspiciously from what he had just witnessed.
”Shut up Eddie” you muttered. ”Oh, that’s nice, i rescue you from Arkham and all i get is attitude, not even a thanks!” he ranted as the two of you climbed on board the boat and sat down behind Query and Echo. The boat then sped off, you spared Tim, Batman and Red Hood a glance as they faded in to the distance.
360 notes · View notes