#I think he would’ve stopped during his Robin training and would’ve been really proud of himself at the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roses-r-rosie3 · 7 months

Text

Making The Bed

Tim Drake x M!Reader

[Spill Ur Guts Masterlist/Challenge]

Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Breakup, Comfort

Summary: The Reader is the son of death stroke, and of course being his son meant that the reader had to train really hard, but he was never perfect. And he has also found himself in a relationship with Tim. So he pushes Tim away to train harder and make his father proud of him. That ends up leading to the reader and Tim having a massive argument, and they break up. But they meet again, with Batman confronting death stroke about something. It ends up in a fight with the reader and Tim fighting each other, but the reader overworked himself so hard to the point where he passes out mid-fight and Tim immediately stops to take care of him.

Quote: “I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were the youngest of all of Slade’s kids. Some might think that you were the most spoiled and loved because of this, but it was the opposite. You were not the best at combat, but you weren’t the worst. But your father made you see yourself as a disappointment because you weren’t as good as your other siblings were. He still made you his sidekick though, which confused you. But nonetheless you still tried your best to impress him.

One of the nights of helping your father with whatever he needed help with, Batman and red-robin showed up. You would have lied if you said that you didn’t blush a little underneath your mask. You couldn’t remember what happened that day, but you knew you caught feelings for him.

Tim would’ve been lying too if he said he didn’t catch feelings as soon as he saw you. He didn’t know what to do, so one day, when your father let you out on your own, you bumped into the vigilante and he immediately went after you. After a few minutes of him chasing you, he eventually pinned you to the wall and kissed you, and you two became a thing.

The two of you obviously couldn’t tell either of your dad’s about your relationship. Even with having to keep your relationship a secret, the both of you still remained together, you even revealed your secret identities to each other. And every time you “fought” you always pulled your punches and vice versa. Your father would quickly notice this though.

“What were you thinking y/n! You could’ve easily killed him right then and there! But you decided to let him go! You’re useless! God sometimes I even wonder why I even had you!” Slade shouted.

You had to stand there and nod, with tears swelling in your eyes. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You needed his approval. So from then on, whenever you fought with Tim, you would go all out, and Tim would notice it. So after that happened for about 7 more times, Tim texted you to meet him at a random roof top. You quickly snuck out of your house to meet him.

“Hey baby” Tim smiled as he tried to kiss you.

You didn’t let him though, which reminded Tim what he called you here for.

“Y/n, you’ve been acting different recently, is everything okay?” Tim spoke up.

“Yeah, I’m completely fine, why did you ask?” You said as you nipped at the side of your pants.

“No y/n, I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying, please, just tell me the truth, I won’t be mad” Tim said softly.

“Nothing’s wrong alright, I’m fine” you said again.

“Y/n stop! I know you’re lying because you keep picking at the side of your pants each time you lie! Just tell me the truth!” Tim said, raising his voice.

“Can you stop! I’m fine! If this is seriously all you called me for why even call me here to begin with!” You lashed out.

“Just tell me y/n! You’ve been more aggressive during our ‘fights’! Is it your dad making you do this?” Tim asked.

You wanted to tell Tim so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Can’t you just mind your business?! For the last time, I’m fine!” You shouted.

“Y/n please! If there’s anything wrong just tell me! I’m here for you” Tim said.

You couldn’t take this anymore so you just yelled at Tim with a mix of stress and fury.

“I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!” You screamed as you stormed back to your house.

Tim stood there in shock, still trying to process what you just said while you were waking further from him. Tim began to break down on the rooftop, wondering what caused you to lash out like that. Tim, after sobbing for what felt like hours, eventually went back to Wayne manor, and went straight to his room, ignoring his brothers, Bruce, and even Alfred.

When you got back to your room, you immediately realized what you just did and you started to cry. You lost the one person who loved you for you. You cried into your bed all night, you even considered texting Tim, but you couldn’t do it.

For the next few weeks you were training yourself, almost to death, you even passed out once, but luckily, Rose noticed and helped you up. Tim on the other hand, locked himself in his room, not letting anyone talk to him. And if he did, (which was only when he was when he needed to use the restroom or to go on patrol) he didn’t talk to anyone or give them the cold shoulder.

It had been 6 months since the breakup and you were in the training room when your father walked in.

“Y/n get ready, the bats is gonna meet us at a warehouse for a… meeting..” Slade said before he left the room.

As soon as you heard this, you knew it was your opportunity to impress your father. You just had to pray Tim wouldn’t show up. You practiced harder than usual, which caused you to be out of breath, and almost caused you to pass out again, but you couldn’t disappoint your father.

Meanwhile, Bruce knocked on Tim’s door, telling Tim that he had to have a discussion with Slade, and he needed all the help he could get if things went bad (which was bound to happen). Like you, Tim could only hope that you weren’t there, but the chances of that were very low.

When you and your father got ready, you headed to the warehouse, where Batman was already there, waiting, but he was alone. It rose suspicions from both you and your father, but who were you to complain? Tim on the other hand, he was waiting on the roof of the warehouse, looking at you through the glass ceiling.

“Hey, Tim. You okay? You’ve been acting depressed for the last six months now and you’ve been staring at the window for a while now” Dick said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for Bruce’s signal” Tim reassured.

Soon enough Batman gave them the signal and they broke in through the window. As soon as you saw Tim, your eyes locked onto him, tears threatening to fall. Dick, Jason, and Bruce immediately went after Death stroke while Tim and Damian went after you.

You tried your best to fight them both off at once, you could tell that Tim was holding back, but Damian on the other hand, wasn’t. Soon enough you managed to beat Damian, which was a pretty impressive feat from you, considering how weak you were. Now all you had to do was beat Tim, but that was easier said than done.

You glared at Tim, and Tim glared at your mask, but before either of you could start to fight, you blacked out and collapsed to the ground, causing both Slade and Tim to look at you.

“Y/n!” Tim yelled out, getting everyone else’s attention.

Tim rushed over to check up on you, not caring that his family and your dad was watching. Tim quickly pulled your mask off to reveal your face. He missed looking at your face, he missed kissing it, he missed the feel of your face, he missed everything about you.

“Get away from my son!” Slade shouted as he pushed Tim away,

Although Slade acted like he didn’t care for you, on the inside, he cared about you a lot, that’s why he let you be his sidekick. Meanwhile, everyone was giving Tim a confused look, even Bruce.

“I can explain” Tim said.

“Yeah, that would be perfect right about now” Jason said.

“I’ve always had feelings for him, from the day that I saw him, and one day when I was chasing him down, it just happened” Tim explained.

“How long has this been going on for?” Bruce asked.

“It was going to be a year, and then he broke up with me, this is the first time I’ve seen him in months” Tim replied.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting differently” Dick said as everyone was putting the pieces together.

As everyone was talking, Slade appeared behind Tim.

“So, you’re the one my son was dating, I knew he was dating someone but I could never find out who. Why did he fall for someone like you? How do I know that you won’t break my son’s heart?” Slade said.

Slade sounded calm, something that far beyond normal for him. Tim was confused, but at least Slade wasn’t trying to cut his head off.

“Your son and I loved each other more than anything, he was always my number one priority, I can’t live without him, I love him so much” Tim responded.

“I trust you, but if you hurt my son, physically, or emotionally, I will make sure that you will beg for me to kill you” Slade threatened.

“And if your son hurts our brother, we’ll make sure to send his decapitated head back to you” Damian spoke up.

“Okay then” Slade said before picking up your unconscious body home.

“That’s not what I expected, I thought for sure he was gonna chop your head off” Jason shrugged.

———————————————————————

When you awoke from your unconscious state, you were in your bed, and your father was sitting next to you in your bed. Something felt off though.

“So, you and the boy wonder huh?” Slade asked.

WHAT?! HOW DID HE FIND OUT?!

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” you stuttered.

“I’ve known for a while that you were with someone y/n, I’m your father. The problem was, I never knew with who, until now” he spoke calmly.

“I’m so sorry dad, I didn’t mean t-”

“Don’t be sorry, I can’t control who you do and don’t fall in love with” Slade said.

“So you’re not mad?” You asked.

“No. But I have a question, something about his tone, felt off, tell me why” Slade said.

“I broke up with him, because I wanted to focus on training, to impress you” you confessed.

“Now I know why you fainted. I have one last question” Slade spoke.

“Do you really love him?”

“Yes, I love him more than anything, I want to get back with him, but I doubt he wants anything to do with me anymore” you sighed.

“Go”

“What?” You said confusingly

“Go tell him that you want to get back with him” Slade ordered.

“R-really?” You stuttered.

“It’s obvious that you two love each other a lot, and I am in no position to keep the two of you from each other” Slade said.

With that, you texted Tim to meet you at the same roof top you broke up with him on, and you ran.

When you got there, Tim was already there waiting for you, which caused you to slow down your walking. You both stared at each other for what felt like eternity.

“Tim… I-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Tim ran up to you and kissed you. You were shocked at first, but you closed your eyes and gave in to the kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate. You held him closer to you, you didn’t want to let go, you didn’t want to lose him, not again. When your lips finally departed you were already craving it again.

“I’m so sorry Tim I’m so sorry I lost my temper on you. I- I was just so stressed that I just snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to. I missed you so, so much. I missed you more than anything, please forgive me” you cried.

“I missed you too y/n, please, don’t ever leave me again” Tim sobbed as he hugged you.

“I won’t, I won’t ever leave you again” you sniffled as rested your head onto his.

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #male reader #mxm #gay #rosesrrosie3 #tim drake #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin x male reader #angst

175 notes · View notes

capricorn-stark · 3 years

Text

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read!

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of.

Ever.

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave.

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets.

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you.

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you.

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.”

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere.

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.”

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?”

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.”

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.”

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.”

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand.

“And what about it?”

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama.

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.”

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts.

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.”

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?”

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching.

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little.

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.”

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps.

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea.

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you.

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.”

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually.

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing.

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung.

193 notes · View notes

mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said.

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously.

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you.

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom.

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room.

“A really big box.”

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit.

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that.

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in.

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.”

“Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.”

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you.

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.”

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you.

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.”

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable.

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him.

“Shut it Todd.”

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway.

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment.

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.”

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful.

You closed the door and turned the lock.

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?”

“Nyssa.”

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?”

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you.

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.”

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

#dc x reader #Jason Todd x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Damian x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #redhood x reader #PAST LIVES

129 notes · View notes

lifeinahole27 · 5 years

Text

CS ff: “Love So Sweetly” (Part 1 of 2) (au)

Summary: If you ask either of them, they’ll both claim it isn’t their fault. It starts with feuding musicians, a pair of handcuffs, and the evolution a relationship can go through over the course of 24 hours.

Rating: E

Warnings: handcuffs?

A/N: Hello, friends. Can we talk about how fucking difficult it is to figure out the logistics of how two people would move while handcuffed together, and then to put those movements into words that other people will understand? Pain in the ass, but I hope y’all enjoy this. This was started almost three years ago for AU Week 2016, and I posted a snippet, and then never got back to it. Thanks to @xemmaloveskillianx for making @csmarchmadness so I could get back on this and finish it up. Except, of course, for the cosmic joke that is my life... It’s not finished yet. This is part 1 of 2. I will get Part 2 done as soon as I possibly can, because the end is so near I can taste it!!

And again, thanks to the whole CS March Madness Discord for being so damn lovely. I was so lucky to have you all cheering me on and entertaining me, caring when I needed that little bit of extra care (and advice), and just being all around excellent people. And a hearty thank you to my beta, @captainstudmuffin, for finding all the shit I overlooked a thousand times.

Find it on Ao3 or FFN!

-x-

The Storybrooke Music Festival has been a staple of Almost-Middle-of-Nowhere, Maine for longer than most people that attend it can remember. The tradition of the gathering, in some cases, has been passed down from generation to generation, where the kids of the rockers and attendees are now the ones rocking and attending, and this year is no different from any other.

From all around the country, bands have flocked after being invited to play – some are bigger names, some smaller, some lost in the between. Some are one-hit-wonders and others have topped the pop charts for months at a time. The thing they all have in common: they’ve gathered here because their fans nominated them and the committee voted to invite them.

Over the span of a few acres, there’s a main stage and two smaller ones, with a sprawling campground surrounding the whole thing. And then there’s the vendors and merch stands, the specialty shops that have paid to set up. During the few days that the festival takes place, it’s anybody’s guess who will be there, where the weather will fall, and what will happen.

It’s early summer, but in their particular location, that still means a pop up storm or two. The days are warm, but without the drought of mid-summer, the paths that are marked for walking are quickly turning runny with mud, which normally would be fine. Normally.

“Well, princess maybe if you didn’t want a little mud on the tires, so to speak, you should’ve avoided the music festival ring! If the lowlands here are so offensive to you, perhaps you should get back to your pampered mansion back up on the hill.” Ignore the fact that he can also access the VIP tents as a musician, but it’s the principle of the matter…

None of the parties involved remember how this all started, besides the fact that Killian Jones, one half of the small-time Hook & Crook, fell in front of the golf cart that Emma Swan and Ruby Lucas, two thirds of The Ugly Ducklings, were riding in while one of the web media teams interviewed them. To be more precise, he fell on the hood of the golf cart, after he slipped in a slick spot of mud. The hit to the hood did something, however, and now the two woman are standing outside the cart as the media team struggles to get it working again, while Emma and Killian snipe back and forth at each other.

“It’s not the mud I’m mad about. I would happily get the hell away from you if you hadn’t stalled out our damn ride, though. Why weren’t you paying attention? You could’ve gotten seriously injured, you know.” Her finger is jabbing into his chest, belying the message she was spouting off.

“Careful love, you might make a man think you cared with such impassioned speeches,” Killian tells her, toe to toe, boot to boot, in front of the stalled out cart in question. That his are knock off from a secondhand store and hers are knee high genuine leather matters little to either of them, now. He sways into her space in a tantalizing way, his arrogance getting the better of him in this situation.

In retaliation, Emma straightens to her full height. Despite being shorter than him by almost half a foot, Killian swallows. It’s not her star power. He knows damn well who Emma Swan is. He won’t admit to the tracks he listens to in his downtime, with Emma’s voice conducting his mood like a bloody maestro without even trying.

No, Emma is a powerhouse without having to stand behind her fame.

Keeping up the façade of cocksure, he knows that whatever her next move is will be the finishing blow. She opens her mouth to tear into him, but a high-pitched honking causes them to snap out of it. He actually releases the tiniest of relieved breaths after the interruption, after Emma jolts away from him, thankful that she didn’t have a chance to use that legendary sharp tongue on him. He thinks himself a proud man, but he’s not sure even he could take getting verbally filleted by one of his celebrity crushes.

“What seems to be the problem here?” The woman is one Killian has seen around the festival since the gates opened the day before. She’s older, gray hair loosely pinned in a bun and glasses hanging around her neck from a beaded chain.

“Granny!” Ruby rushes at the older woman with a bright smile. “I was wondering where you were hiding.”

“Goodness, child, there’s been no hiding involved. I’ve just been keeping feuding rock stars in line. Speaking of, this looks like some trouble.”

“It’s nothing, Ms. Lucas,” Emma says, her whole demeanor softening to the obviously familiar newcomer.

“You know to call me Granny, dear! And this doesn’t look like nothing,” she says, motioning between Emma and Killian. “This is a festival to bring all kinds of musicians together. Emma, you know that better than most since this was your first break, right?” Granny takes one of Emma’s hands in her own, smiling fondly at the blonde.

She turns to Killian next, looking him up and down once and giving him an appreciative grin.

“You look like a tall glass of trouble. You boys harassing my girls?”

“Not at all, ma’am. Just a mild stumble that began a misunderstanding,” Killian says, laying the charm thick by grabbing her free hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Mhmm, well, mild misunderstandings are solved easily enough,” she says. “I have just the thing.”

“Granny?”

There’s something in the tone of Ruby’s voice that catches his attention, and he turns to see the slightly horrified look on her face. With speed he would’ve never credited the older woman to possess, he certainly doesn’t have time to stop her before he feels the cool metal snap around his left wrist. He looks down in confusion at the chain, following the line of it to where it’s connected to the other cuff, which is now locked in place around Emma’s right wrist. When Granny managed to pass his hand over to Emma’s instead of her own is beyond him, but the older woman is moving swiftly away from them, a grin on her face.

“What – “

“Granny, you can’t!”

“Let’s see how that works for you two! Now get along and maybe I’ll take them off!”

Faster than anyone can react, Granny is back on the cart that brought her to them and she’s speeding away. Ruby runs after her, followed by Robin, who’ve both figured out that their bandmates have just been handcuffed together.

Killian and Emma, however, are still rooted in place, disbelief painted on both their faces. They make eye contact, the reality of their predicament slamming into them at the same time before they look at their rapidly disappearing freedom.

“Wait!” they call out at the same time, taking off sprinting as a unit.

How Granny manages to disappear into the crowd so quickly is beyond all of them. Of course, she does have the advantage of being on wheels where the rest of them are all on foot. It feels like they’ve been running and searching for miles, all while the crowd ebbs and flows around them.

The only thing they can really do is head back to the VIP tents with a quick flash of their badges. There’s beer waiting from them, handed over from multiple angles, and Emma and Killian both take one in their free hands and greedily gulp from the clear plastic.

“Any luck contacting Granny?” Emma asks when she’s halfway through the beer. She looks down at her boots and sniffs once in annoyance. They’re not covered, by any means, but he’s guessing she had no intentions of getting them dirty at all. His have about the same amount on them, but he’s eternally grateful that he didn’t fall in front of the cart, because he cannot imagine trying to clean up while Emma is with him. Or change, for that matter.

“None. She must not have her phone on and none of the techs will let me contact her on the walkie.”

“I’m going to kill her. You know that, right?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that,” Ruby mutters, sipping from her cup.

As they all settle in, assessing what to do next, Killian sits back and observes the people around him. The other women, he knows, are Mary Margaret and Ruby, and there’s another one off to the side on her cellphone, the stern set of her face speaking of management.

“Regina,” Emma says, catching where his line of sight is trained. “She’s our manager. She’s trying to track down bolt cutters or something. Ruby texted her on our way back up here.”

“Ah, well. Hopefully she’ll succeed. I cannot imagine having to be stuck this way for much longer.”

“You and me both, pal.”

“Killian,” he says, holding out his right hand. “Killian Jones.”

She stares at his outstretched hand for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face, before she finally relaxes and lifts her right hand as much as she can, given their situation. “Emma Swan.”

“I’m sorry for the spat earlier,” he tells her, honesty at the forefront. He genuinely can’t remember who started hurling insults first but it was bad form, all around.

Emma fidgets a little, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. “Same. It’s uh, been a long day already and the weather isn’t helping.” He knows that all too well. The temperamental showers passing through have been hell since he and Robin left New York.

Whatever Killian goes to say next is cut off when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He releases her hand to dig it out and opens the message from their friend-but-also-manager, David, who they may or may not have forgotten about in the interim.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Killian says, scrambling to chug the rest of his beer and motion to Robin. “We play in half an hour. We’ve got to get over to our stage. Now.” He’s not sure how he let the time slip away from him so fast; he’s been looking forward to nothing but this set for ages.

“What? Hey, you’re attached to someone, you know. Go easy on the tugging.”

He looks down at where he’s clearly moved without thought again, noticing at the same time that there are dual red marks on their wrists from where the metal has dug into their skin. “Please, Swan, don’t make me beg. We barely lucked into this slot, and if we don’t play then we won’t get invited back.”

Emma stares at him for the length of ten heartbeats, and then she sighs. “Fine. Let’s get going. This should be interesting.”

The trek from the musicians’ tent to the stage where Hook & Crook are supposed to play is not an easy one. For both being musically inclined, and thus, coordinated enough to play instruments, they’re both incredibly clumsy when attached to another person. The number of times they yank each other in separate directions is somewhere in the twenties by the time they reach their destination (and right on time, thankfully). Killian is convinced that they will kill each other if the cuffs aren’t removed in a timely fashion.

To say the crowd is a bit surprised at the appearance of one Emma Swan on stage is a bit of an understatement, as they first gasp in surprise, then cheer wildly when she raises her right hand (along with his left) in greeting to wave at them all.

“We seem to be the victims of a cruel and unusual social experiment,” Killian tells the audience when they get settled. His voice booms out among the audience thanks to the amplifiers, even if they aren’t as big as the ones Emma will be plugged into tomorrow on the main stage. He’s damn proud of their attendance, so now it’s important to make the performance match.

It takes Killian all of two seconds to realize the biggest oversight yet, just as soon as he goes to pick up his guitar. He realizes it’s a problem, of course, because Emma’s hand goes with his.

“Shit,” she whispers, at the same time much less pleasant words are coming from his mouth.

“What do we do?” Try as he might, there’s panic licking up his spine and bloody hell would it be so much easier if he played the keyboard or something.

“I have an idea,” she tells him, picking his darling guitar up by the neck and turning to face him for a minute. After making sure the shoulder strap is in place and his hands are where they’re supposed to be, Emma supports her hand on his forearm and otherwise turns so she’s partially behind him. It’s awkward, feeling someone standing close, and her hand will no doubt get tired, but holding it the way she is means he still has complete freedom to move his hand to play. He strums a few chords just to make sure it’ll work and gives her a look and a thumbs up.

He does his best to forget about the woman literally attached to him, which is a little hard at first. But then the music kind of takes over, as it always has with him, and he’s lost in the set list he and Robin have played for years; this is what he works for year round – this opportunity to play for this crowd, some of whom have followed their little duo for years.

To his surprise, Emma doesn’t get tired of where her hand rests, even tapping along to the beat with her thumb. After three songs, she presses her back against his and starts swaying back and forth behind him, compelling him to move as well. It becomes difficult to remain solely focused on the song he’s playing when he can feel her shimmying against him.

“It seems as though our unexpected guest likes my music,” Killian says into the microphone, turning his head just enough to smile at her as she looks over his shoulder. The crowd cheers again, and they launch into their next song, one the audience clearly knows well enough that he feels pride welling in his chest when they sing along. He knows their time is running out, but he lets the buzz of performing wash over him, enjoying the way Emma is still moving to the beat at his back.

Their last song is a crowd favorite, so while he gives the audience a moment to sing the lyrics back to him – the ones he spent hours getting just right – he takes the time to appreciate just where he is, almost forgetting about the handcuff on his wrist, and the argument from earlier. With the final notes, the crowd starts cheering and whistling, and he smiles as he leans towards the mic to thank them again for their time.

The coordinator to the side of the stage waves to get his attention, and Killian glances over expecting to see the gesture for wrapping up. Instead, he grins wide when he sees the girl asking him to stretch their set by just one more song. They’re out of songs that are ready for performance, so he’ll have to think up something quick.

“We have time for one more song, and I think we should let this one choose the tune,” Killian says, using the chain that connects them to pull Emma back around to stand next to him. She groans and rolls her eyes, but glances back at Robin. With a thumbs-up from him, she looks to Killian and raises her eyebrows.

There’s a heavy pause, one in which she’s clearly thinking of the right song that they’ll both know.

“Hold your hand up,” Emma tells him, and without further preamble, she stomps her foot twice on the stage, followed by a high five for the clap that should follow. She repeats the motion a couple times to the audience, getting them to join in with a little help from Robin, before she reaches for the mic. She keeps up the double foot stomps but lets the crowd do the claps.

He idolizes Freddie Mercury, and appreciates the way Adam Lambert sings the lyrics of the famous Queen song, but he finds he’s instantly attracted to the way Emma’s voice sounds singing the opening lines of “We Will Rock You.”

Without discussing it beforehand, they perfectly switch off between stanzas, singing the chorus together. Killian is no Brian May, but he manages a guitar solo that makes the crowd go wild as Emma stamps her foot through the end of it. The applause is a level of deafening that Killian has never heard before, having drawn even more of a crowd than they normally would’ve with those passing by who heard the song. And while they take their bows at the end and exit the stage, he knows it won’t be soon that his adrenaline wears down.

Just as they’re giving a final wave, he spots Granny on the outskirts, looking something like proud. Instead of pulling away and letting the chain drag Emma along, he grabs her hand, yelling out to Robin that he’ll meet him later if this works, and they take off running. At the stage entrance, he holds still long enough for David to unstrap his guitar. He gives one quick “Thanks, mate!” before they’re off again, running and hoping.

By the time they reach where the older woman just was, the spot is vacated, and the audience is trying to clamor around them for autographs and pictures.

“Which way did she go?” Emma’s yelling to be heard over everyone else, both of them on their tiptoes to try to see if they can spot her.

“I couldn’t tell,” Killian says, his defeated tone obvious as he turns back to her. “Should we?” The circle around them is closing fast, and they either need to break out while they still can or resign themselves to signing and smiling for a bit while the stage changes set ups.

As if noticing the people around them for the first time, Emma’s face goes from fallen to smiling. She looks at him, shrugging a little and reaching for the nearest autograph book and pen that someone’s holding out. His hand jerks along with hers, and they look at each other and sigh.

The rain that falls just a few minutes later is a blessing, because they can finally slip away as everyone else scatters at the same time. With no sense of direction, they start running, and Killian is thankful for the open yurt he sees just ahead, especially when thunder rumbles ominously much closer than he expected. He pulls Emma in just as the rainfall turns to a total deluge, and lightning flashes brightly.

By now, they’re likely postponing shows and getting festival goers to safety, so there’s no chance they’ll be moving before the storm passes, and no chance they’ll find Granny in the meantime. Other than to check the weather outside, the occupants of the yurt barely pay attention to them as newcomers. There are blankets covering the whole floor, in a circle around a young woman with an acoustic guitar, and as someone stands to close the doors on the weather outside, Killian leads Emma further in along the curved wall. They find an empty spot to settle down, both shivering from the moisture that’s soaked through their clothes.

A young woman with a mane of fiery red hair hands Killian a blanket. Her eyebrows go up and she stifles laughter when she sees the handcuffs. He’s not one to blush, and yet he feels his cheeks heating in response to whatever this woman is imagining. He opens his mouth to explain, to defend his honor, whatever – but the quiet applause for the woman playing in the center of the room cuts him off, and the woman with the blankets wanders away.

Emma smiles at him gratefully as he hands her one end of the soft fleece. Working together, they manage to get it around their shoulders, huddling close to get the most out of the material.

In between songs, he finds time to ask. “How are you holding up, Swan?”

“I’ve been better, Jones. I’ve been better. Hey um, thanks for including me in your set. That was a lot of fun.”

“Aye. I’d wager the crowd loved it just as much,” he notes. He wants to say more, to tell her how much he’s enjoyed this little adventure they’re on together. He wants to tell her how much he loves her music, and that he’s been a fan for ages. That he never meant to let their meeting escalate the way it did. She’s looking at him, her eyes darting between his, as if she’s reading his mind and can hear the words he can’t seem to speak. The set in the yurt continues, so he resigns himself to a tight-lipped smile and a nod, which she accepts with a small bob of her head. He unconsciously presses a little closer to her, not realizing how she returns the movement.

It’s several songs later that they notice the sounds from outside the yurt have quieted down, and they fold the blanket and leave it where they were sitting. Emma makes sure to snag one of the cards and demo discs that are sitting out on a small table near the entrance, something Killian failed to notice on his way in. Then again, he was mostly concerned with finding dry and safe and warm at that moment.

The long trek back to the musicians’ tent is spent in amiable silence. Neither are thirsting for conversation, but it’s not the same hostile silence they had at the beginning of this day. Someone slams into Killian, though, and the quick jolt to their wrists is enough for Killian to grab her hand again, leading her over to a merch stand somewhere halfway between where they were and where they’re going. He chooses two wrist bands at random, handing over the money and turning back to Emma before she can even question what he’s doing.

“Here, should make things a little better.” He holds one out for Emma, waiting until she’s wiggled hers on with a relieved hum before he does the same. The cold metal is no longer digging into his skin, which is the most important factor. “Shall we?”

They weave their way back to the musicians’ tent, stepping as carefully as they can through the mud that’s starting to form faster with the sudden rainfall. He’s used to festivals being a little rougher than indoor shows, so he does his best to keep his eyes on the ground and guide them through the worst of it.

When they get back to their destination, Ruby is engaged in conversation with another woman, and Killian immediately notices a disturbing pattern of managers looking very smitten with band members, or vice versa. Robin might have actual hearts in his eyes as he listens to something Regina is saying. Meanwhile, David and Mary Margaret look like they’re about five minutes from planning their wedding.

Killian looks at Emma, who looks back at him with a similar expression. She shakes her head, working her way over to where they’re all sitting and throwing her hands up in victory as their friends all turn and cheer for them.

“Where the bloody hell have you been, mate?” Robin claps him on the shoulder, and Killian would buy his concern if it weren’t for the fact that he’s sure Robin forgot he existed for a bit, there.

“We tried to track down Granny,” Emma explains. “But we were too late. Then got mobbed by fans. Then got stuck in a storm. Then ended up in a tent listening to an acoustic show.”

“Sounds like you two have had quite the adventure,” Ruby comments, her grin directed at Emma and looking something along the lines of predatory, if he had to put a name to it.

Emma hums in response, eyes narrowing as she looks at her friend. Whatever conversation they have between themselves during that moment, it’s something Killian isn’t meant to understand. Instead, he focuses on checking his social media accounts with the phone that David has returned over to him. He’d plum forgotten that he’d given it to Dave before they started their set.

He’s surprised when the biggest trending picture from the festival is one from Ruby’s account. There he is on stage, glancing over his shoulder at Emma behind him, she who has her eyes closed and is clearly mid-dance move against his back. It’s taken from the backstage area, and he didn’t even realize Ruby bothered to follow them, but he’s going to have to thank her for it later, and get the original sent his way so he can frame it and hang it up. It’s not every day you get to play a show handcuffed to someone you view as an idol. But there was the living proof of that.

“I can’t just sit here,” Ruby announces not more than ten seconds after his thoughts. “Let’s go explore!”

-x-

As far as ideas go, Ruby could have better ones sometimes. For one, she could be tracking down her heinous grandmother (who she would never claim is actually heinous in any other circumstance – the woman practically helped raise her, after all) to get a certain key to a certain set of handcuffs. She could be walking back to Storybrooke’s town limits to find her own spare key, for all Emma cares. But no, instead, her friend and bandmate is talking about how she’s apparently bored.

“Uh, Red? I’m kind of… stuck to someone.”

“So what? We bring him along. And any of the others that want to join?” She looks around at their strange group as she says it.

“Wait, wait. That’s it? You don’t have any other back up plans? A hairpin? A lock pick set? A good set of bolt cutters?” The whole group turns to look at Emma’s outburst, but no one says a word.

“I mean, you can try. But I swear those things are made of magic. They’re the only pair I was never able to bust out of without the key.”

The fact that Ruby’s been stuck in these cuffs, or that she’d been stuck in other pairs of cuffs, is no surprise to her, but it doesn’t facilitate a reaction with anyone in the circle either. Where did she find these people?

“So, we going?”

Mary Margaret visibly brightens as Ruby draws attention to her plan. “You’ll come, too?” she asks David. Ugh, even Mary Margaret has forsaken her. She knows David by reputation only; she’s met him a couple times and even likes him, but she knows that as soon as the manager turns a hopeful look towards Killian, they’re all apparently going gallivanting around the music festival.

“I guess that can be arranged. Now that Hook & Crook are done for the day, there’s really not much else for me to do,” David finally says after a wordless conversation with Killian.

“I’ll sit this one out,” Regina says, clearly taking on the air of Important Manager of an Important Musical Act.

“Count me out,” Robin says following her declaration. “I’ve had quite enough excitement for a bit.”

“Suit yourself,” Ruby says, clearly dismissing him and turning back to the rest of the crew. “Come on. There’s a Ferris wheel with my name on it.” Without further prompting, she grabs Emma’s hand and starts dragging her away. Killian isn’t quick enough to move, so his shoulder gets jolted again before Emma grabs his hand and pulls him along. She makes sure to murmur an apology to him as they exit the tent, and his quiet reply starts her heart beating like it was when they were on stage together.

That’s quite enough of those emotions, though. She’s been back and forth on the emotional spectrum since this morning, and really, some cliché pitter patter of her heart is just one step too far. So she had fun with him performing. So he’s easy on the eyes. So what? So are plenty of other men, and she’s certainly not about to one-night-stand a guy she’s literally stuck to. That just feels like asking for the key to be lost or the handcuffs to be rotted shut and then they’re just living out their days: the losers who got stuck handcuffed together and had sex once. Nope. No thanks.

Okay, so that’s a little hyperbolic, even for her. But she’s noticing that she’s getting used to the feeling of his hand in hers, and the sound of his voice as he quietly asks about the newest joiner of their group.

At the head of the pack, Ruby walks side by side with Mulan, who Emma points out to Killian as Ruby’s girlfriend. She does casual security for them as they walk through festivals such as this, so it’s Mulan who clears the path for them to walk through, herding them easily enough through the crowds and making sure they have enough space at all times. It’s clear Killian is out of his comfort zone – while he seemed to have a great amount of his own followers at their show and afterwards, and even as they sift through the crowd, he doesn’t look like he’s used to this large mass of people clambering to get selfies or autographs. Mostly, he just keeps hold of her hand and does his best to keep up.

That’s not to say they don’t stop for some of the fans. There are quite a few times where the three women just can’t ignore the people around them, and Mulan sighs in mock frustration (a smile on her face the whole time) as they linger with fans for a couple minutes at a time, trying to cover as many people as possible. They have a reputation (Emma especially) for trying to get to everyone, and so Mulan is hard on her to move along after an allotted amount of time.

What does come as a surprise is the amount of people who ask for pictures of Emma and Killian together, their handcuffed wrists held up like some kind of publicity stunt or punishment depending on what people ask. He tries to keep up with it all, and Emma gives him a quick smile before they keep moving again towards Ruby’s ride of choice.

“How’re you holding up?” she asks as they get escorted to the front of the line. There are some tiny perks to their ‘fame’ if she says so herself.

“Better than expected. That is, it’s not every day you wind up handcuffed to some beautiful celebrity and find out how the other half lives.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as the carriage comes to a stop in front of where they’re standing. All six of them load in, and Emma tries to keep her wayward emotions in check as she ends up pressed tight against Killian’s side.

The whole grounds of the festival stretch before them, with the stages visible out one side and what feels like miles of camp grounds all around them. There are other rides, ones she doesn’t think they’ll be able to handle with two people trapped together, but she smiles as she watches them cycle through, the thrilled screams of passengers filtering all the way up to them at the top.

As the wind whips around them, Emma glances at her companions in turn. Understandably, Ruby and Mulan are huddled together, with Ruby’s arm wrapped around Mulan’s shoulders and their cheeks pressed together as they look out at their surroundings. David and Mary Margaret are holding hands, a new development judging by the nervous smiles on their faces, and they’re glancing between each other and the view. Killian, however, is looking at her. As soon as she looks back at him, he darts his eyes to the side to look out at the landscape, but there’s a hint of smile on his lips while his hair dances in the breeze. She is very aware of how tightly she’s gripping his hand, unnecessary while they’re not in motion but habit now, nonetheless.

When the ride is over, they slowly disembark to a bunch of fans waiting. The crowds at the festival aren’t quite mob mentality, so it’s something they can handle and enjoy – these small groups that just want a small introduction and a moment to say their thanks. While she may have a few more fans trying to capture her attention, Killian still has a few things to sign and fans to greet while Emma is preoccupied with her own. She smiles when she catches sight of him talking with a smitten teenage girl, enjoying the way he’s so genuine with the people around them.

To be honest, after hearing him play, she wants to look him up online, find his albums, find out who he is without… you know… talking to him. Because that’s how she is. If she asks him questions, she’ll have to answer some of the ones he has for her, and that’s not how she does things. What’s weirder is that this whole scenario should be in the realm of “SOS immediately” in trying to get him unstuck from her, but Emma can’t help but slowly adjust to it all. Is this an ideal way to meet a man? Hell no. Is she going to make the most of it? It certainly seems that way.

As Mulan starts to move them along the path again, Emma’s stomach makes a loud growl, and it’s the first time she realizes how hungry she is. “Where the hell can we find some food?” she wonders, grabbing Killian’s hand and pulling him away from the departing fans. “You okay?”

She’s very aware, all of a sudden, that they are alone again somehow. He hasn’t said anything for a minute or two and the silence is suddenly unusual coming from him. But then he shakes his head and smiles at her, blaming his momentary lapse on his own lack of food.

“Pretty sure there’s loads of places we can find something to eat, love. Let’s sail away,” he responds, swinging their hands as they go along.

There was something there she just missed, and she can feel it. There’s something he’s not saying, a lie by some kind of omission, covered up by hunger, but when her stomach rumbles away again, she forces down that part of her that can sniff out a lie like a drug-seeking dog and focuses instead on food options.

They wander from stand to stand, weighing their options and discussing pros and cons of the various food choices. As they go along, she relaxes again and finds that she’s enjoying herself way too much. It’s not often that Emma finds herself calm in the company of a relative stranger. No – usually, when it’s outside of her fans, her skin crawls at the very prospect of spending any time with someone she doesn’t know.

Add in the fact that she is handcuffed (she feels as if she cannot emphasize this enough) to said stranger… well, let’s just say that Killian Jones is lucky there wasn’t anything pointy or stabby in near reach when Granny first locked the cuffs around their wrists.

Every moment since then has been a learning experience. It took more self-control than she thought it would to be teeth-grittingly polite after their initial predicament became clear to them. But man, as soon as that bravado, tough guy act faded away, Killian has been nothing but sweet and accommodating.

“Swan, onion rings,” he says, suddenly dispelling her thoughts again as he says the most magical words someone could ever say to her. “And frozen hot chocolates.”

“I don’t know about the frozen thing. I’m already starting to get chilly again,” she says. And it’s true. She’d left her jacket in the VIP tent when they went out for their interview, but the day had been sunny and glorious to start out. Now, with the sun setting and another round of clouds moving in, she shivers. It turns out leggings and a fitted t-shirt don’t do much, especially after a good soaking from the earlier rain.

Killian halts her progress towards the food stand for a quick detour to a small merch tent nearby. The young man running it looks like he has about a thousand safety pins attached to his outfit, and a surly look on his face. But when Killian waves a twenty, the kid’s whole demeanor changes. “This for the largest size of the goth Tinkerbell jumpers, and another if you give me all the extra safety pins you can find, along with a pair of scissors.”

Emma raises an eyebrow at his request, but Felix, as he introduces himself, grabs the items Killian has requested in record time and piled them on the sticker-covered table in front of the stand. When Killian goes to cut the side of the hoodie, Emma’s stomach reminds her that she’s starving and she throws in her own money. “I’ll give you an extra twenty if you cut that and wait for us to get back.”

Suddenly, Felix goes bashful. “I’ll do it for free if you sign an autograph for my cousin. She’s the model for the logo there, and she’s one of your biggest fans.”

“Deal. Just let me grab my food and we’ll be right back,” Emma says, smiling in victory as she pulls Killian over to the food stand he’d already spotted. They come back to Felix’s tent after Emma is already halfway through her onion rings, with a grilled cheese and two waters in the bag Killian is holding. After Emma holds up her end of the bargain, making sure to also promise a selfie with the cousin in question if she’s around the following day, Felix even helps them with the makeshift outerwear, diligently pinning the top seam he cut after realizing it would be easier for her to step into it instead of pull it over.

Encased in the soft, fleecy material, and having been fed, Emma is far more comfortable than she has been since she woke up this morning. Of course, that brings a whole new predicament. How the hell are they going to sleep? Because surely, they’ll have to do that at some point. She planned on sleeping on the tour bus which is fine in a pinch, but it’s a tight fit for her. How will Killian fit in there, too, unless he’s on top of her?

Suddenly, her mouth is dry at the thought, but she’s saved from her earlier thoughts of attraction by Killian’s gasp.

“Is that Granny up there?” All she can do is keep up as he moves them in a direction, and Emma realizes as she hears a loud chiming in the distance that it’s after midnight already. A whole day gone, but was it ever truly wasted connected to Killian Jones?

-x-

See you soon for Part 2!

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #cs march madness

80 notes · View notes

flamboyantommo · 6 years

Text

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

*All answers should be about works published in 2017.

@allwaswell16 tagged me to reflect on my writing this year. And because I’m a huge procrastinator, clearly, I’m doing it right now!

(My GOD, this is so long, so if any of you actually read all of this, God bless.)

1. List of works published this year: In the order that they were posted

- What's Stopping You?

- Know It All

- Curveball

- Shut Up and Wink at Me

- One Day, Maybe Next Week

- It’s Hard to Say It, Time to Say It

- Got It Backwards

- NC-17

- Members Only

- Ready

- Aim

- Fire

- From the Floor to the Ceiling

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Um... Probably Got It Backwards. It was a pinch hit, written for @stnbutterflies, and she loved it! I churned that fic out in like, three weeks, and it got so long so fast that I had three betas working on it as I was writing it. It was... a lot, haha. I did a lot of literary research for it because Harry was a tutor in it, so he needed to know what he was talking about, and I wrote about 20K words of it - so, half - in a weekend because I was just going so fast. I think it’s the fastest I’ve ever done a fic of that size before, and it’s definitely something to be proud of. Oh, and Denise got it turned into a book, like an actual physical copy, and I think that’s pretty damn cool!

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I can honestly say that I loved all of my fics this year, and there’s two of them that I want to write sequels to. But if you've been paying attention, then you know those sequels won’t be coming out for like, another year, hahahaha.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

(this is from Members Only, which may be the fic I had the most fun writing this year)

“Um… Save me a spot in there?” Louis stumbled.

“You do yoga?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. Every week.”

Fucking liar.

“Really? Oh, I’ve never seen you.”

“Yeah, um, it’s usually in the morning. Or during the day. But yeah, I’m waiting for my coverage to get here, and of course Perrie is running late, so… But yeah, I’m totally coming.”

Why am I like this? Louis wondered.

Harry grinned, though, so Louis supposed it wouldn’t be too bad. “Well cool, then. Yeah, I’ll save you a spot by me. OK?”

“OK.” Louis saw Perrie coming from the locker rooms, so he told Harry, “Be right in. Get us a good space.”

“Cool.” Harry was still smiling when he walked away, so Louis hoped Perrie would be a good person for once.

“Perrie!” Louis hissed when he approached the counter. “You love me, right?”

Perrie eyed up Louis and kept walking.

“Perrie Louise, get over here!”

Perrie sighed. “Yes, Louis?” She didn’t walk over to the counter, but she didn’t walk out of the building, either, so Louis figured that was a good sign.

“I need you to cover me so I can go to yoga.”

Perrie frowned. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you wanted to go to yoga?”

“Yes! Keep up!”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you once say that yoga was only for hippie vegetarians who needed to learn how to breathe?”

Louis shook his head. “Nope, wasn’t me.”

“What about that it was just for people who wanted to be flexible so they would be better in bed?”

“Can you just help me, please?” Louis whined. “Please?”

“Harry’s going to yoga, isn’t he?”

“Who?”

Perrie sighed again. “Go. Just know that I’m only doing this because you’ll never shut up about it if I don’t.”

“Thanks, Perrie! You’re the best!”

“You don’t listen to me when I talk, do you?”

But Louis didn’t answer her. He was too busy grabbing his water bottle from behind the desk and hurrying back to the training room.

When he walked in, Jade, the instructor, was just turning down the lights.

“Louis, what are you doing here?” Jade asked him. “You know this is yoga, right?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. His eyes darted over to where Harry was sitting on his mat, hoping he didn’t hear. Luckily, Harry was doing shoulder rolls to get warmed up, so Louis didn’t think he did. “Everyone has to start somewhere, right?”

“Yeah. Just never thought you would.”

“Why doesn’t anybody have any faith in me?” Louis muttered as he made his way over to Harry. There was a spare mat next to him, so Louis sat down on it.

“Hey,” Louis whispered as he took off his socks and sneakers. He was glad he wore basketball shorts today instead of actual pants. He was feeling warm already.

Harry just smiled at him, looking perfectly peaceful already.

Louis wanted to suck a mark into his neck.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

OMG I love my comments. But I’m going to put two here, and they’re from the people that my fics were written for.

First is from @stnbutterflies on Got It Backwards. She wrote:

I'm so in love with this story and I feel so honoured, that you wrote this story for me. The whole idea with the robin picture was wonderful and I might have shed quiet a few tears while reading. And liked how you put together the story with the flashbacks and everything. This really might be my favourite mpreg fanfiction I've ever read! Thank you so, so much! You really did great! xx <3

Second is from @harrystinychristmasshorts on It’s Hard to Say It, Time to Say It when Kat clearly knew I wrote it but wasn’t calling me out yet.

i was going to wait until you were revealed to come talk to you but i couldn't wait any longer! by the looks of it the round of fics yours is in will be revealed next week and i'm just so excited because? i have a very vague idea of who you are but i really don't want to spoil the fun so. i'm forcing myself to be good and wait. but! i'm gonna come yell at you when i found out who you are because you deserve more than just comments on here! okay Xx

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Well, this year, I actually took a break from writing. It was only for a few months, just because I was just so stretched thin last year of fics I wrote. And this year is actually the year I’ve written the least since beginning to write.

So the time for me that was hard was when I was trying to get back into it, trying to remember how to write a sentence and how to characterize people. That was tough. I got back into it with What's Stopping You?, and then of course, it was just continuous writing after that. But getting back into my routines was really difficult.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Actually, in What's Stopping You?, when HL were finally finally about to hook up, the dirty talk part of their conversation had me in giggles because dirty talk is so not something I write on the norm. Like, it just felt so strange to me? But it fit the scene of the story, so it had to be done.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I think this is the year I stopped caring about how many kudos my fics got and focused more on writing because I enjoyed it. Of course, I want people to read what I spent all of my time working on, and I do think there are some fics that have been definitely slept on, but it doesn’t make me as upset or frustrated as it used to if my fics aren’t super read.

And, I guess I tried new things. Like, I wrote two proposal fics this year (wow, I’m such a sap), and I took part in the Drabble challenge, after complaining forever to the gc about not wanting to because I thought it would be hard. (It was, but I still liked it and might do the spring one)

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Next year, I want to follow through on all of the sequels I’ve planned and have been planning for God only knows how long. *cough* Taylor Times, if anybody’s still interested *cough*. That’s literally it. Hopefully I can follow through!

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Let’s see... As always, @temporaryfixlouis for being my go-to beta, even if our schedules haven’t quite lined up in a while. I know I can still count on Michelle!

Then there’s @harrystinychristmasshorts, who has become a new beta and friend this year, and is always there to boost me up. I loved being able to work with her and also write a fic for her and being super sneaky about it, lol.

Then we have @wonderdaysoflunacy who I only met because she made me a moodboard for Runner on Third, and she always has a compliment ready. She’s also an amazing person and so so so easy to talk to, about fics or anything else.

And of course, everyone in the Life Ruined But It’s Fine gc, because all of them are amazing writers and it’s an honor to be included with them and fangirl over each other, hahaha.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Bahahaha of course. Nothing specific is really coming to mind at the moment, but it’s mostly the characterizations. In every fic I write, one of the characters is based on me, either a little or a lot. Also, the setting. Unless I actually say otherwise, just assume all of my fics take place in South Jersey/Philly, because that’s just where I live and where I spend a lot of my time.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Don’t be afraid to find a beta. It took me more than a year and a half to start working with a beta, and all of the fics I wrote in between then and the time I started probably could’ve been much stronger. It also would’ve made less work for me, so I didn’t have to read over my fics four times. I could’ve just done two. And it doesn’t hurt to have extra eyes looking over a fic or get another perspective on something you’re writing.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

OK, let’s see. I have:

- a fic for the @1dshortficfest due in February.

- a fic for Rachel’s @moodboardprompts due... shit, when is that due? March 1.

- my next prompt for the 1000 Feelings challenge. I had an idea all ready, but then I read another fic with the almost exact same plot line, so back to the drawing board!

- Thursday Deadlines! The last part of The Taylor Times series. I revisited what I had written the other day and have started adjusting the plot for it. It’ll be shorter than what I planned, but it’s been hovering over my head for the last year, and I need to finish.

- Eventually, I want to write one more part in the Bottom of the Tenth series. Destination wedding? We’ll see.

- A full fic to tie up the Your Move series (my winter drabbles)

- I’m working on an age difference fic that I’ve been thinking about for a while.

- I’m still working on the famous/famous AU I started planning like, months ago

- Oh, and I’m working on a pinch hit for the @hlwinterficfest2017!

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read.

@harrystinychristmasshorts @wonderdaysoflunacy @tommostummie @harrygotthebee and anyone in the 1000 Feelings gc who hasn’t done this yet!

#my god that took FOREVER #but it's done #and i'm happy with the answers so #get to know #flamboyantommo #writing evaluation #kikikryslee

20 notes · View notes

believingispowerfulmagic · 7 years

Text

OQ Fix It Fic Week Day 5: Comforting Regina

@oqfixitweek Day 5: Off screen day

Takes place during the season three finale, after they’ve discovered Zelena’s dead and Emma’s revealed she wants to go back to New York with Henry.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked her, wrapping her arm around Regina’s shoulders. They sat in the park, right by the lake, watching as a few ducks swam through the cold water.

She shook her head, still feeling numb. Pain would come—it always did—but for now, it seemed he kept it at bay. And for the first time in a very long time, she believed she wouldn’t have to deal with the pain alone. Robin would be there for her, to hold her, kiss her and rock her until the worst of it passed.

It was a concept both alien yet comforting to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, rubbing her arm. It provided a little warmth as they sat there, huddled close together.

“About what? About how my sister chose to kill herself rather than accept my offer of a second chance? Rather than try to form a relationship with me?” she asked bitterly. “Or about how a certain blonde Savior wants to take my son away from me?”

Robin sighed, kissing the side of her head. “Don’t look at it as Zelena rejecting you. She just couldn’t see past now. All her plans, everything she had bene focused on for years, everything she had expended her energy and time on, the reason she got out of bed, the thing that she thought gave her life, it was all gone. She no doubt felt she had no purpose, nothing to live for and that everything was meaningless. Unfortunately, she decided that she would never find something else to give her purpose, unlike some other people in her position, and so she chose to end it all.”

“Other people in her position,” Regina mused. “Are you talking about me?”

With their memories returned, she could now recall their first adventure together when they broke into her palace. And she remembered how he pleaded with her not to use the sleeping potion on herself. How she had wanted to end all the pain by falling asleep forever (or until Henry came, no matter how impossible that appeared) but putting those thoughts aside after meeting Zelena.

“Yes,” he said, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You thought there was nothing to live for after losing Henry but you found something to put your energies toward.”

“You mean revenge? Destroying my sister?” She frowned, once again staring at the ducks as they dove their heads into the water. “I guess I accomplished that last part.”

He gently cupped her chin and guided her until she was looked at him against. Robin smiled softly. “You may have started out seeking revenge but really, you’ve been trying to protect and save us. Which you did. Need I remind you about the light magic you used the other day?”

She grinned at the memory of the white magic emanating from her hand hands and then knocking her sister over, stopping her nefarious plans. And she even saved Zelena, stopping Rumpelstiltskin from killing the witch. “I did save everyone, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” he said, sounding very proud of her. He kissed her forehead. “Zelena wanted your heart because it was the most resilient. She wasn’t as strong as you, milady, and that is not your fault.”

Regina closed her eyes, again seeing the image of her sister on the sheriff stations’ security footage. She seemed to move about her cell before retreating to the back, using the last of her magic to destroy herself. It made her heart stutter before she took a deep breath. Robin was right. Zelena just hadn’t been strong enough to realize the opportunities that had been offered to her and that wasn’t Regina’s fault. She let out the breath, releasing her guilt with it.

“Feeling better?” Robin asked, nuzzling her hair.

She nodded before frowning. “Well, about Zelena at least. There’s still Henry.”

“You’re his mother and he remembers that now. He wants to stay in Storybrooke with his family, with you. I’m sure Emma will have to take that into consideration,” he told her.

Calm came over her as she realized that her spell had only affected Emma’s and Henry’s memories, not on reality. Emma had “remembered” choosing not to give up Henry but she had done so and Regina had adopted him. The paperwork was all still filed with the proper authorities. As far as all legal agencies knew, Regina Mills was Henry’s only parent and legal guardian. Emma technically couldn’t take him away from her.

Not that Regina was going to play that card right away. Maybe a year ago, she would’ve in her desperate bid to keep Emma Swan from Henry. Now, though, she was changing and appeared that at least part of her was hero. Heroes worked things out and compromised to do what was best. While Henry wanted to stay in Storybrooke with her and the rest of his family, he would also want to be able to continue his relationship with Emma. Regina realized that if Emma continued to insist on returning to New York, she was going to have to have a conversation with the blonde where she laid everything out and then gave Emma the choice: Stay in Storybrooke with Henry or go back to New York without him.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that and even if it did, Regina believed Emma would chose Henry. But they would cross that bridge when they got to it.

“Well, someone seems a bit brighter than when we got here,” Robin said, a warm hand now on her knee.

She glanced over at him, grinning. “You’re very handy to have around, you know that?”

“Glad to be of service, milady.” He leaned in and they shared a quick kiss as the ducks looked on.

Regina, though, didn’t want it to just be a quick kiss. Her fingers grasped his jacket and she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss as Robin let out a little moan. When he nibbled on his lower lip, she opened hers and let his tongue into her mouth. She didn’t care that they were making out on a park bench like a pair of teenagers. Especially as she felt like a teenager, enthralled with her first love, and yet felt like she was kissing someone she had been with forever. Her heart sped up as Robin pulled her closer, his body heat warming her.

Or maybe that warmth was coming from somewhere else.

They broke apart as Regina’s lungs began to burn for air, panting as their faces remained only inches apart. She could see their breaths in the cold air, the two mixing together in an apt metaphor for the moment. Regina never wanted it to end but knew it must so they could make more of these memories together.

Robin stood, holding out his hand. “Might I entice you to come back to my camp? Now that he has his memories back, Roland is quite eager to spend some time with his beloved Majesty again.”

Her grin morphed into a beaming smile as she remembered the sweet curly haired toddler who had wormed his way into her heart back during the Missing Year. Roland had been a lifeline on days when she missed Henry too much, it felt like her entire body was full of cement and she didn’t see the point in moving forward. He hadn’t been a replacement for her little prince, but it had lifted her spirits to spend time with him—outside in the gardens or in the kitchens baking. Even just getting a random hug from him had gone a long way in helping her continue living.

She took his hand, letting him help her up. “I would love to see my little knight again. Lead the way.”

Roland had been ecstatic to see her and had given her the biggest hug a four-years-old could give. She had held him close, letting his curls tickle her as he babbled away about everything he had discovered in his new world. It seemed he was fascinated by the boats in the harbor and loved Granny’s chicken nuggets. He was scared of the cars but Regina soothed those fears and the train whistles sometimes woke him up at night, but she soothed his fears and told him that those whistles were just the trains saying hi to him. That seemed to please him and he continued on babbling as the Merry Men watched on in amusement.

The sun began to set soon after and Regina checked her watch with a frown. “I should be going,” she said. “I don’t want to be late for David and Mary Margaret’s party for the baby.”

“Please don’t go, Regina,” Roland begged, clinging to her. “Not yet.”

“We are going to the party too,” Robin reminded her. “They invited everyone in town. Maybe we can go together?”

She smiled, looking between the dimpled boy and his dimpled father. “Well, I think that’s a great idea. And I have an even better idea too. Why don’t we leave now and I’ll introduce you to a place that’s almost as good as Granny’s?”

Roland gasped and looked at his father, locking his fingers together and giving him big brown puppy dog eyes. “Can we go, Papa? Please?”

“Please, Papa?” Regina echoed, also clasping her hands together and pouting for extra measure.

Robin gave an exasperated sigh but his smile to her he felt anything but. “Okay, I guess we can go,” he said.

Giving a little cheer, Roland leapt from Regina’s arms into his father’s. He hugged Robin tightly as he said: “Thank you, Papa.”

“Come on, Roland,” she said, holding out her hand. “I know you’re a little frightened of them, but we’re going to ride in my car. How does that sound?”

The boy hesitated but looked up at her with complete trust in his eyes. “You’ll be making it move?”

“Yes,” she told him, crouching down to be eye level with him. “And I’m very good and very safe at it.”

“Okay, Regina. I’ll get in the car with you. Only you,” he stressed. She laughed, thanking him as she hugged him.

She led the Locksley men to her car and conjured up a car seat for Roland, helping him into it and buckling him up as she explained that it was just for extra safety. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she told him, gently bopping his nose.

He giggled and she closed the door, hopping into the driver’s seat. Once she was certain Robin was buckled like she taught him, she started the car and headed into town. Roland watched the trees go by with wonder in his eyes as his little legs bounced against the car seat. And when she glanced over at Robin, she met his shining eyes and bright smile.

Zelena hadn’t been able to see past her own anger and jealousy to see the beauty in the world and everything it could offer. Regina could understand that for once upon a time, they weren’t much different. Yet she was glad that even when she was at her lowest and the world seemed the darkest, she had listened to Snow and not buried her heart and then she had not put herself under the sleeping curse. For now, things were so much brighter. She had Henry back and she had love again—both Robin’s and Roland’s. A family was starting to form here, she realized with a burst of warmth in her stomach, and happiness was in her reach.

So with those pleasant thoughts going through Regina’s mind, she beamed as she parked outside Any Given Sundae, ready to introduce Roland and Robin to the magic of ice cream.

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq ff #oqfixitweek

20 notes · View notes

thelittleredheadedmusician · 7 years

Text

What is a Legacy?

The final day of Batgirl & Robin Week is Legacy! Mild Hamilton references but anything you need to know is pretty self explanatory. @super-batgirl here’s the last one! If you’d rather you can read it here on my ao3. Rating: G Words: 1,338 Gen

Babs whole heartedly blamed Harper. Jason and Stephanie may sing showtunes the most but Harper was the one who was the true theater nerd and would always get the other two into a new show. Now, after a year and a half, she’d finally gotten all of Gotham’s vigilantes obsessed with Hamilton. Babs could finally stop her tears from welling up when Eliza started singing in Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story – although she would still sometimes ugly cry at the part about the orphanage – and as such decided listening to the soundtrack while she monitored everyone’s patrols would make for an enjoyable night. When the night got longer though and the only activities included changing an ice cream truck’s tire and finding a lost dog Babs realized how bad an idea it was. As soon as Lin Manuel-Miranda said “What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see” Babs lost it.

She tried, and did a pretty darn good job of it, to keep the others from hearing her cry over the comms. Dick noticed it though, he knew her too well. She heard the tone as it flashed across the screen that he had opened a private line. “Hey O? Is uh, is everything ok?” He asked softly.

Barbara grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk, using it to dab at the corners of her eyes. “Yeah Nightwing. Wh-why’d you ask?”

She found his GPS pinging near St. Mary’s Park in Fort Clinton. With deft fingers and practiced precision, she pulled up the live footage of him perched on a water tower from a nearby security camera. He leaned back onto his hands, settling into his chosen seat. “Well I definitely recognized The World Was Wide Enough playing in the background and I thought that I heard some sniffling.”

“What? No. You’re just losing your touch Detective Wonder,” she scoffed.

On the screen Dick looked directly at the camera, directly at her. “Babs, you know you can be honest with me. What’s up?”

Babs pursed her lips and then worried her lower lip, watching Dick give her his “I’ll wait” look. She took a deep breath in through her nose and pushed it out in a rush through her mouth. “Ok,” she nodded even though he couldn’t see. “I might have started crying a little.”

“About what? What’s wrong?” he was genuinely concerned that she was upset. The stupid big-hearted turd.

“It’s so dumb. You’re going to think it’s so dumb,” Babs rubbed her temple, letting some dry humor creep into her voice.

He tilted his head and gave her a lopsided grin. “Oh really? Try me.”

“You know the part after Burr shoots Hamilton? And he’s about to actually get shot? Where Hamilton talks about having a legacy?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well it got me thinking about, well, about our legacies actually. How we’re lucky to be able to see them. How Jay and Cass and Steph and Damian managed to come back. I realized how lucky we are to be able to see how being Robin and Batgirl has helped them and Tim and all.”

“Babs,” Dick started slowly. “That’s… well crap. That’s some heavy stuff.” He scrubbed a gloved hand through his hair before dragging it back down his masked face. He gave a slight chuckle as he started to speak again. “Dammit. Now I feel like I’m gonna cry.”

Barbara began chuckling too and soon they were both laughing as the soundtrack started over. She scanned the screens quickly, ensuring that all of her charges were safe and in no need of divine intervention via Oracle’s deus ex machina. Steph and Damian were taking pictures of and with a mama duck and her babies down by the docks. Cass had found Tim and she and Harper were terrorizing him with some confiscated paintball guns in Robinson Park. Bruce was with Duke, chatting with her father on the roof of GCPD and both men were commenting on how peaceful the city was tonight. Kate and Luke were on their way to meet up with Basil and Jean-Paul who had found another lost pet. Jason was in the East End smirking at Selina as Helena laughed at Catwoman being sassed to high heaven.

She finally turned her attention back to Dick, waiting patiently on his water tower to continue their conversation. “It’s just… I never thought that there’d be another Batgirl or Robin after you and I. Now? I… I can’t imagine it otherwise. Cass and Steph, heck even Helena and Charlie if you want to count them, have gained so much from being Batgirl. And the boys and Steph? As Robin they were given chances to start over and they’ve all grown so much because of it.”

“I know. I never really thought I’d stop being Robin and at first I really wasn’t happy about Jason being Robin,” Dick gave a slow smile as he shook his head. “And even though I sometimes wish he’d never been Robin, because of what happened, I’m still glad he was. And Tim? Timmy boy. He’s too smart for his own good and he’s always just wanted to help. Robin gave him the ability to do that and even with all the loss he’s faced in the role I can only imagine what might have happened had he been just regular old Tim during it.”

Barbara smirked. “I’ve always told you that boy was one missed cup of coffee away from super villainy.”

Dick laughed as he nodded. “It really shouldn’t be funny cause it’s true,” he sighed, tilting his head back to look at the stars. “Steph was a good Robin and I honestly wish she would’ve had the chance to be a great one.”

“Well she’s currently a fantastic Batgirl so I’m going to keep her. No givesies backsies.” Barbara smiled, wide and genuine.

“I know better than to fight you on that,” he glanced back at the camera with a grin. “Damian, oh Damian,” Dick said with a sigh. “He was for sure a menace-”

“Ha, you can say that again.”

Dick rolled his eyes, turning it into an overexaggerated full-body motion. “As I was saying; he was a menace but was able to find a release for his anger and a new direction. I’m really proud of the kid.”

“Are you tearing up there Pixie Boots? Talking about your kiddo?”

“Hey, you got defensive about your kiddo so…”

Babs snorted as she nodded. “Ok, ok. Fair enough. But do you see what I’m saying? Cass needed a new direction too, something to use her training and to still keep that big heart of hers intact. She’s helped so many people and saved so many lives and she’s repaid the debt of that awful thing Cain made her do tenfold.”

“I love Cass. I honestly don’t know what my life would be without her and her cool head and subtle mischief,” Dick gave a soft smile. He truly did love his little sister and it showed in his facial expression, even with his blue eyes hidden.

“And Steph my firework. She’s got so much energy and just brightness that it’s startling sometimes. She puts everything she has into every single thing she does and I’m so proud of her. Of both of them. Of all my girls.”

“You should be, Babs. You run a tight ship and a great team. I’m glad you were my Batgirl.”

“Dick, you’re the glue of this crazy messy family and your even crazier messier teams. Even when you explode you’re the first one back to pick up the pieces. I’m glad you were my Robin.”

She watched as a bit of color rose to his cheeks. “Why don’t we call it a night? Nothing’s happening, we’re both turning into sentimental old saps, we might as well. I’ll pick you up a Cookie Monster sundae from that place on Front Street? What d’you say Babs?”

“I say hurry up Boy Wonder.”

33 notes · View notes

thej13579 · 4 years

Text

Robins Involuntary Makeover - Ending D

Robin decides to confess to Lissa and Maribelle.

Here it is. After over a year and a half since I started, I finally finished Robin's Involuntary Makeover. It's definitely a story that I worked on the most. Suffered from a bit of writer's block on certain parts, which is why it's taken me this long to get everything done. But I am still proud of this story and I hope to keep on improving from here.

If you have any constructive criticism and feedback, feel free to reply and/or reblog.

“Come to my room at seven PM. I have something important that I want to tell you both.”

That was the only thing written down in the note Robin handed to Lissa and Maribelle. Neither of them knew what their friend wanted to tell them, but they were concerned.

Ever since Robin’s training a couple of weeks ago. Lissa and Maribelle noticed that he was acting rather odd.

The first sign was his skin, mainly how Maribelle noticed that Robin has been applying the same brand of skin cream that she uses. His skin now looks so soft and clean. Soft enough that wrongfully handling a paper could give him a cut. Maribelle didn’t consider it a big deal as she thought it was that her tactician friend was taking care of his appearance.

The bigger sign was his attire. As the weeks flew by, Robin wore less tunics and moved towards clothes that were more effeminate. Soft pants, frilly blouses. He wasn’t dressing like a woman, but neither Maribelle or Lissa can recall many men actually dressing like that amongst the Shepherds. Even his hair wasn’t untouched. It was now reaching his shoulders and Maribelle could tell that it was soft, light and flowy. She suspected Robin must have used the same potion that grew his hair originally.

When asked on the subject, Robin simply replied that he wanted a change of pace from his usual attire. Nothing to make a big deal of, he said. He just wants to look more fancy.

Then there was the note. Both Lissa and Maribelle suspected there was something up with Robin lately and they had a feeling that the reason why he wanted them to come to his room had something to do with it. Besides, it would’ve been rude to turn down a possible invitation.

As the two ladies walked in, their eyes set on a fairly shocking sight.

Rather than his usual clothes or even the fancier and more feminine clothing that he wore for the past several weeks, Robin was in the slender white gown that he wore during field training. He was wearing heels, pearl earrings, gloves and makeup. He was even wearing the corset that made his figure look far more feminine.

“Hello ladies,” Robin dipped into a little curtsey. His voice wasn’t artificially raised by the potion, but the pitch was slightly higher than usual. Maribelle suspected he must’ve been working to make his voice more naturally feminine“I know this might seem quite shocking to you. Sit down and have some tea. I’ll explain.”

As Lissa and Maribelle sat down, Robin poured tea for them. He was about done pouring tea for himself when Maribelle couldn’t help but ask a question.

“Robin, may I ask why you are dressed as a woman?”

“Yeah,” Lissa interjected. “Your training is over. You don’t have to wear that dress anymore.”

Doubt crept up Robin’s mind as he took a sip of his tea.

“I honestly wasn’t sure if I should tell you either of you this. Especially you, Maribelle. You were always a bit strict when it comes to gender norms.

“I had been raised as a proper lady by my parents and tutors. I am expected to behave as a lady of my standing should. But I can tell that you are a special case.”

Maribelle gently sipped her tea.

“Explain.”

“It all started about a day after you wrapped up my training. I slipped on my regular clothes and I went about my day doing my usual activities, nothing truly important there. But, for some reason, my clothes felt wrong. At first, I thought it was because of all the creams and lotions you had me put on my body. I thought that, with time, things will go back to normal and I can pretend this whole thing never happened.”

“But you were wrong. Is that right?”

“That’s right,” Robin nodded at Maribelle’s question. “Every now and then, my mind turns towards you. You were so graceful, so elegant, so beautiful. I actually felt kind of jealous.”

“So you started your change in attire,” Maribelle responded. “The more effeminate outfits, the longer hair. That explains it, right? I bet you used the same potion we originally used on your hair.”

Robin nodded.

“It was around that time I began having dreams. Funny enough, when we first started my training, I dreamt of dancing with women in suits while I was the one in dresses. But as time flew on, some of those women became men.”

Maribelle wanted to ask the obvious question. But she knew that it’s likely that all of her questions will be answered by the end.

“What happened after that, Robin?” Lissa asked.

“Of course, one night. I couldn’t take it anymore. In the privacy of my own room, I got myself dressed in that lovely white ball gown you gave me. You originally let me keep it as a little joke between the three of us, but I didn’t have a problem with it.”

Robin sipped the tea daintily, taking to Maribelle’s lessons like a duck to water.

“I slipped on the undergarments, did my makeup and put on my accessories. I even put on the corset. Tying it up on my own was quite a pain, I admit. As I got myself completely dressed and looked at my reflection, I came to a sudden realization.”

“What did you realize?”

“That it felt right. I felt so beautiful and feminine and lovely... I want to stay like this.”

“You mean… as a woman?”

“Yes.”

Robin turned his - her - face away from their shocked looks. She didn’t want to look at their faces of disgust, their faces of anger, their faces of… hatred.

“We didn’t know, Robin.”

At the sound of Maribelle’s voice, Robin turned back to the two ladies to find not disapproving or disgusted looks, but faces filled with concern, of worry.

“Yeah,” Lissa said. “When we started this, we wanted to have a little fun at your expense. We didn’t think that it would end up like this.”

“It’s not your fault, Lissa,” Robin answered. “When I first realized my condition, I did some research. From what little I managed to gather through research and my own experience, it’s not something you can get. It’s not so much of a disease as it is a realization.”

“What is this condition?” Maribelle asked. “From what you said, it does not seem to be terribly common around here.”

“It does not seem to have a name from my research. It is too uncommon and hidden to have one.”

“What would you call it?”

“Well, Lissa, I think I’ll call it Gender Identity Disorder. I try to go for a more professional sort of name.”

“Personally, I find that name to be fairly appropriate,” Maribelle sipped some tea.

“Honestly, if I was in your shoes, my parents would never allow me to make such a big change. I would’ve been the next Duke of Thermis and engaged to a potential wife. If I ever came out, it would cause massive political issues for my father and myself.”

Maribelle smirked.

��But, considering you don’t have such issues holding you down, a transition like this would be little to no problem. You would still have to deal with bigotry.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Chrom will understand. I bet he’ll be more than happy to make you a woman legally.”

“But I-:

“But nothing, Robin!”

Maribelle got up and pointed her pink parasol at Robin.

“You are a woman and I’ll make sure that the people of Ylisse will treat you as such.”

“Yeah,” Lissa got up as well. “And anyone who has a problem with it will have to deal with the two of us.”

“It… I…” Robin stammered, her voice breaking. “You...”

Lissa quickly pulled Robin into a tight hug.

“It’s okay to cry, Robin. Just let it out.”

It was rare that Robin cried at all, let alone openly in front of her friends. Now, she was definitely crying. But with that smile on her face, Lissa and Maribelle knew that Robin wasn’t sad at all.

It was then Robin realized her makeup was smearing from her tears.

“I know I’m smudging my makeup. Let me go clean myself up.”

“Let me help, Robin.”

Maribelle took out a handkerchief and began cleaning up the stains on Robin’s face. She took care to wipe off all the makeup the tears ruined. There was barely any left by the time Maribelle was done. Only a brief bit of blush. Barely noticeable at this point.

Eventually Robin stopped crying, allowing her to ask a simple question.

“Maribelle?”

“Yes, Robin?”

“I know I completed the crash course that started this whole thing. But perhaps you don’t mind if you train me on the details that you glossed over? If I’m going to stay like this permanently, I want to make sure that I don’t miss crucial details. It would be quite dreadful if I missed something that I really should know.”

“I would love to, Robin,” Maribelle smiled. “The lessons may be fairly extensive now that we are done with the basics, but I know a wonderful student like you would pass without too much trouble.”

“Well, I wouldn't have gotten this far if it wasn’t for a wonderful teacher like you.”

As the three ladies giggled, they continued their spot of tea. Any worries that Robin had over her future were forgotten for the time being. She knew that with her friends, nothing will stand in her way.

#fire emblem awakening #my fanfiction #involuntary makeover #robin #maribelle #lissa

0 notes