imagine damian wayne who plays the normal child card every time he’s outside of the wayne manor (yet his vocabulary and manners far exceed the one of a child) — compared to you, an actual normal and silly child if it weren’t for your mind reading abilities.
your dynamics with damian wayne goes hand in hand with the concept of anya and damian from spy x family. one prestigious child from the billionaire, higher-class life and the other from a normal, humble life. your lives are complete opposites yet you two function a whole lot better. the idea of damian wayne with an unhinged partner, who barely is out of her fantasy-like life—her every move compared to the fictional world and her childish ways to get under his skin. it’s not even intentional, yet you always get to annoy him in some way that no one has.
but he tolerates you, a lot. because he secretly harbours feelings for you. you always grin at him so stupidly, as if you knew something you shouldn’t, and always stare at him with those wide, curious eyes and look at him as if the world adores him. him? the demon child? raised by the league of assassins? how wrong you are.
although in reality, you’re just really interested in him. his mind tells you a lot, even if you barely grasp a full sentence with those complex words riddling in his head.
because he is actually he’s the robin, fighting side to side with the batman. isn’t his life super exciting? so much action, so many secrets!
luckily for damian, you don’t even get that he crushes on you, given that you own a pea-sized brain when it was about feelings.
SYNOPSIS — Being a magical girl is no easy job, especially when you have seven villains that get really under your skin. Don’t get you started on the increasingly annoying underlings!
NOTE(s) — magical girl au, gn!reader, magical girl persona is yuuna, description of injury for both reader and OB boys, villain forms are basically their overblot forms (small exceptions), villain names are book titles, accidentally gave too much screen time to the goons.
WORDS — 5.5k
You know that your week has truly started when you detect a large amount of blot accumulating in the Heartslabyul district. It's always bright and early in the morning, you're still finishing up your breakfast when you arrive at the scene.
The Rose-Red Tyrant is at it again. Decked in red and black and card decorations. He uproots trees, destroys building with his face as red as his hair.
He doesn't talk much when you fight him beside the shrill screams that escape him whenever you land a particularly harsh hit. So you do most of the talking. He isn't that fond of that. He's one of your more stronger opponents. His attacks can be detrimental if they hit you, blocking off any type of magic you summon. Furthermore, Grim's fire can only do so much against someone that also attacks with fire. Though, that doesn't stop you from making quick work of him. With one hedgehog accidentally making its way onto the battle field and broken fire hydrant later, you manage to subdue him.
The Tyrant is tightly held in flame ribbons, shrieking and attempting to loosen his bindings. Blot leaks off him and onto the concrete forming a small puddle.
When you get close enough, you're stopped. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Ginger clones trap you in a circle, forming a human wall on all sides. Oh great. The Diamond is here.
You raise your staff, Grim shakes in anticipation, ready to hash out another beating. You shout out a chant, ready to lash the villain with a burst of flames, but nothing comes out but a explosion of confetti.
You sigh, shoulders slumping as you turn. The Clover.
There's really nothing you can do with Grim's magic being turned into streamers. You could technically fist-fight your way out, but you rather not take your chances.
Grim only shakes with rage in your hand as you watch The Spade and Heart undo your bindings on the Tyrant. You catch the murmurings of The Heart, something about not getting paid enough.
When the ribbon is finally undone, the red-head regains his composure, wiping of dust and blot off his dress. He smirks at you like you didn't wipe the floor with him. You can hardly see him over The Diamond's clones but that doesn't stop him from monologuing.
"Is that the best you can do Yuuna? You're a fool to think that you could beat me. IT'S OFF WITH YOUR--"
"-Um, your Majesty. We should leave at once. The authorities will be here soon." The Clover’s voiced is laced with hesitance. The clones and The Clover's hat cover most of your vision, but you can still make out the very apologetic look on his face. Whether that was towards you or his boss, you are not sure.
The Tyrant takes the info much more calmly than you expected. "Hmph. The next time we face off you won't be so lucky."
And then they're gone. Vanishing in a quick flash of light to who knows where.
They leave behind a furious familiar and a disinterested magical girl.
Monday's suck.
Tuesdays aren't much better. Its always around noon when the familiar scent of blot begins to formulate around the Savanaclaw district. Your lunch remains at your desk, uneaten, much to Grim's chagrin, as you race your way over to a large lush sports field. The Usurper From The Wild greets with a disintegrating piece of concrete to your head.
It's always fun with him. You two have good banter when he's in the mood.
Two large lions made of sand are on each side of him. He sits in a makeshift throne out of sandstone and dirt, a disinterested look on his face as he yawns. Everyone from the stands are long since gone, perhaps it was purposeful on his part. Neither of you would have to hold back now.
"Well look what the cat dragged in." He doesn't respond to your attempt at a joke with more than a smirk. Holding an arm out, the lions pounce towards you, following their master's command.
You dispatch the lions quickly, turning them into nothing more than glass sculptures by the time you're done with them. You staff shakes as Grim sneezes, complaining about all the dust and sand.
With his familiars crushed, The Usurper, finally stands up from throne, stretching out his muscles. He grins, a crazed look in his eye as he pounces like a bolt of lighting.
The ensuing battle is fierce. Your uniform is in a desperate need of a patch up in places where the villain had managed to scrape you. When all is said and done, you end up on top. He lays on his back, chest rapidly moving up and down, trying to catch his breath. You stand over him, staff pointed at his neck. Just as you are about to spout out another spell he grins again, you narrow your eyes, tensing and awaiting for any sudden movements.
When it comes it's not from him.
A heavy weight tackles you. You back harshly hits the dirt and your staff is knocked away. A large white wolf leers over you. Attempting to move is futile as your actions are no longer yours to make.
You see a hyena laid flat on the floor in front of you. His shoulders move up and down in barely contained giggles.
The Hyena and The Wolf. Great.
The Usurper manages to sit himself back up. He doesn't spare you any words, only a cocky grin that makes your eyebrow twitch. He picks up the still laying Hyena and places him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
He whistles and the wolf steps off you. The pressure on your chest disappears, but you still can't move. It's only as they get out of eyesight is your body finally yours again.
You pick yourself off the ground and walk over to where Grim is. He flops around on the group, being without a user makes him effectively useless.
You grab him and he sighs in relief before that relief quickly turns to rage at the lack of villains in the vicinity.
Tuesdays are a pain in the back, literally.
Wednesdays are peculiar. Its around peek traffic time. Those working nine to fives make their ways home. Its just around closing time when you sense a large amount of blot appear in the Octanaville domain.
The Merchant From The Depths is hard to miss. He stands around the height of a small building. You would have to be blind to miss him. You would have called him a Kraken if you didn't take notice that he had eight legs rather than ten.
He talked. A lot. Much more than you. To put it simply, he’s very annoying.
He’s downtown. Destroying and shaking the foundation of every building he crashes into. He holds a large golden trident summoning water that pelts into you.
He is Grim’s favorite villain to fight based on the salty seafood smell that lingers on him. In contrast, he’s your least favorite. The water he summons doesn’t do you any favors, never failing to put out any flames you fight with.
You have to try a different approach to him.
“Hello there, benefactor.” He smiles up at you from your position in the air. “Have you thought about the contract previous discussed?”
He summons a golden parchment paper that size of his hand. Which, in this form, would take you a whole hour to sign legibly. The blot on his fingers stain the paper. To make matters more annoying, the font is so small that you would need a magnifying glass to understand it! The Merchant was a scammer all right.
You don’t grace him with a response, too busy angrily squeezing water out of your hair. Grim purrs in delight, lost in his own daydreams.
When you deem yourself dry enough, you focus on the villain in front of you. You summon as much of Grim’s magic into your body as possible and launch yourself at the octopus.
It doesn’t take you long to knock the schemer down a peg.
You float above him as he shrinks to a more manageable size. A small crater formed where he lays. You legs slightly burn with strain, but you ignore it.
He chuckles, lifting himself up into a sitting position with his elbows. Even in the face of defeat he still manages to slap on some bravado.
“It seems l-like you didn’t like the terms of this contract.” His eyes darts towards yours and then to something behind you. “How…unfortunate.”
You raise an eyebrow, pointing your staff you begin chanting—
“—SHRIMPYYY.” what.
A sudden weight pulls you down. You look to your legs. A sharp tooth moray grips onto them tightly, smiling like he’s won the lottery.
“What are yo—Get off me!” You struggle in his hold, the more you fight the tighter he seems to grasp your legs. Grim shouts something unintelligible as a horrid realization crosses through your mind.
Where’s the other one?
“fufufu~ now, now. Don’t hog them.” Slimy arms wrap around your midsection. You almost scream from shock as the sudden weight breaks your concentration. The levitation spell shatters. You fall. Down. Down. Down. Down.
SLAM
The concrete hurts, but the tight grip that the Moray Twins have on you somehow hurts more. They both giggle as if something really funny happened and you hadn’t crashed into the earth like a meteor at a speed that would have certainly killed someone if it wasn’t you.
Their giggles trail off and somehow their grip gets tighter.
“Meh. That was boringg!”
“Then, let’s finish this.”
They don't leave you in any anticipation. You yelp as electricity surges through you, the moistness of your outfit acting as a weapon against you.
The twins separate you with a huff. You can only glare as your body helplessly twitches, the after effects of the electricity still running through you. The Merchant looks down at you.
“Hmm, perhaps next time I can come up with terms that we both agree on.” He giggles like he said the funniest joke before turning on his heel (tentacles?) and making his way down the street. The two morays flank him at both sides, rambunctiously discussing their next business venture.
You’re not going to be able to move for a while so you stare at the fading skyline, trying to ignore the crying Grim and the smell of fish lingering on you.
Wednesday’s stink.
In a perfect world, Thursday’s are calm. Your world is far from perfect. It’s around dinner time when you catch a whiff of blot forming around the Scarabia sector. You scarf down the rest of your dinner as you rush into the fight.
The Schemer of the Scalding Sands is a sight to behold. Everyone has their eyes on him, not daring to look away, or rather, they can’t. The Schemer pets a larger viper that slides along side him. It glares into every scared face that it comes across.
You have half the mind to blindfold yourself as you reveal your presence to the villain.
He’s not a chatterbox, but when he gets going it’s loud and bold. He (occasionally) has enough wit to rival you!
“AHa! I was wondering when you would show up.” You don’t dare meet his eyes, rather you stare at his chin. It doesn’t stop him from trying to make you meet his eyes. You learned the hard way not to meet his gaze. It only brought trouble. “Now that you’re here we can get the real show started!”
It’s crowded. There could be some injuries if you fought here. Furthermore, that viper of his is unpredictable.
“C’mon, why don’t you—“ You bolt towards him, getting close enough to grab his collar, then launch him. His flies through the air, gaping, clearly not expecting the surprise attack. The viper disappears into red dust as he gets a distance away.
“YIPEE!” You mock, fondly remembering a past memory. You channel the magic into your legs and launch forward, flying to the direction of where you threw him.
You end up in a town square. The Schemer coincidentally lands in a fountain, well, it was a fountain before he slammed into it.
He shoots up, spluttering out water. He glowers at you, the snakes in his hair loudly hissing. Blot accumulates around him covering up to his elbows in the gooey substance.
“HOW DAR—“
You balance your staff on your shoulders, it slightly vibrates as Grim giggles. “C’mon let’s get this over with. Yuuna wants some desert!”
The battle is a tad bit harder than you expected, probably from the fact that you riled him up before hand. But you win with only a tad bit more scraps and bruises than usual.
Your shoulder makes a satisfying popping sound as you stretch it. You shout a chant and the half-conscious villain only mumbles in protest as flame bindings wrap around him.
“Job well done if I don’t say so mys—“
“—HEEEEYY.” You pause, turning around to stare at the out of breath man that runs up to you.
He places his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Then, as if a bolt of lightning struck him he jumped up with energy.
“Hi Yuuna! I-I’m such a big fan. My name is Kalim do you remember me?” He feels around his pants, before frowning at the emptiness. “can you uh—autograph my…Oh.”
You are no stranger to Kalim Al-Asim. He never fails to show up whenever a battle is fought in the Scarabia sector.
While you’re tired, you still have to look the part of magical girl, so you plant a smile on your face. “Of course I remember you. Though, I will have to say that being in an active battle field isn’t the safest.”
He blinks. Seemingly confused at your concern.
“…this is my backyard.”
“what.” You rapidly move your head side to side scanning the area. You could have swore this was the center of the town. Now that you were really looking, you could make out the large archways of the Asim state. Oh. Who’s backyard looked like this??
You cleared your throat, regaining your lost composure. “Well…nevertheless! I need to get this evildoer to confinement now—”
“Oh! Wait just—“ He cut you off, eyes darting every which way. He peeked over your shoulder. His expression went from nervous to a shaky smile. “Okay then!”
You frowned, turning around not understanding his shift in composure.
...
you cannot be serious.
The Schemer was nowhere in sight. You hadn’t even felt your restraints be broken and based off the shocked chirp Grim gave out he hadn’t noticed either. You had been too focused on Kalim to—
You did a 180’. You felt your face drop at the empty space where the young man once stood.
You stood in silence. Tightly gripping your staff. You had somehow managed to be outsmarted by a half-conscious villain and some civilian!
.
.
“Can we still get desert.”
“Shut up Grim.”
Thursdays hurt in more ways than one.
Fridays are days where people around your age go out and live up the night. Unfortunately for you, your night is occupied by the blot forming over the Pomefiore district. You dart over, wanting to finish it as quickly as possible to get back home.
The Maquillaville lights are bright and blinding even for this time of night. Though, unlike usual, the streets are empty. A few citizens run past you as you catch sight of the villain.
The Beautiful Tyrant (his words not yours) beckons you over with a ink covered finger. The terrain around him is slightly disintegrated, floating up in small chunks. Yet, not a single speak dares to touch him or his dress.
He's a conversationalist, all right. Whenever you make a comment he snaps right back as if he already had what you will say memorized.
Thick, black miasma forms when you get close enough. It takes everything in your power not to launch into a coughing fit.
"Tone it down will ya?" Your voice strains, but you make it work. "You trying to give me popcorn lungs?"
"I wouldn't want to hurt the star performer...Not too badly at least." He says the last part in a mumble. You strain your ears to hear. "And besides, who will tell me that I'm the fairest of them all if not you?"
There's a teasing bite to his words that makes you chuckle.
However, there's no time for small talk. Muttering a small chant to yourself, you launch in the air. Grim's yells in relief at the fresh air.
The area is clear. All residents have evacuated safely, which means there's no need to hold back.
This'll be the show of a lifetime.
The sky explodes with blue and purple light as you clash. A small part of you fears that if the fire comes into contact with the miasma it will light the town in flames like oil, but it never comes.
With a final hit, The Beautiful Tyrant lays flat on his back against the polished concrete of Maquillaville, flame ribbons wrapped tightly around him.
He doesn't say much, only the subtle twitching of his lips tells you that he's still conscious.
You land on the ground just as a black police van turns the corner.
"Looks like I won the skirmish this time." A single hatted man steps out of the van. You release the restraints just as they're replaced with handcuffs. "Tell me how Vargas is in jail. I'm sure he'll love some company."
The Tyrant is hauled up, he lifts his head to meet your eyes, a sharp grin on his face. He doesn't look that upset for someone that just lost.
"You got lucky. Until next time, Yuuna."
He's loaded into the back of the van just as something crashes into you. It not hard, just enough for you to temporarily loose your balance.
When you turn to meet the assailant, the first thing that greets you is the back of their blond head.
"I-I'm sorry!" They're bowing, almost at a 90 degree angle. Impressive. They don't allow you to get a word out before they are snapping back up, light blue eyes watering.
"I didn't mean too—I just wan—no needed to get your autograph!" They sudden tense and their voice turns sharp as if every word is painful to get out. "Please...sign my super rare...Yuuna plush."
There's a moment of silence as you take in the blond. Their blond hair is pulled up into two twin tails with little bows. They wear a light green dress with black buttons.
Cute. They almost look kinda familiar with those big blue eyes.
"Uh, sure." They step into your space, holding a plush and a marker. You take note, like a weirdo, of their scent. They smell like jasmine, lavender, and something else you can't quite pick up. "And who should I make this out to?"
Before they can respond, the back of the van slams shut. You fleetingly glance at the same officer as he passes you. He raises his cap to you, revealing sharply cut hair and friendly green eyes that sparkle at you. wait.
why is there only one officer?
"Au revoir~" He sings it in a sickly sweet cadence that has you gasping.
The Hunter.
You try to move, really you do, but you take one step and come crashing down into the dirt. The marker and plush comes launching out of your hands, but it never touches the ground. Delicate hands scoop them up.
You're tired. It comes quick, almost blinding you. A poisonous perfume. Or well, one that makes you pass out.
A blond wig is thrown into your line of sight. You hear an annoyed 'tsk' as it steps over you and towards to passenger side of the van. You see a flash of periwinkle.
The Poison Apple.
"Took ya long enough!"
"I apologize, Monsieur!"
"Yeah...yeah."
Grim is screaming for you to get up from somewhere behind you, the faint sound of the staff rolling around is almost humorous, but you're too tired to pay him any mind.
In fact, you're too tired to do anything at all.
The gentle hum of the van's engine starting up again is the last thing that you hear before you succumb to the slumber.
Fridays are tiring.
Saturdays are meant to be relaxing. No work. No clients. Just a day to yourself. And for the most part it is. That is until 2am when you’re awoken by the sound of an alarm telling you that blot has accumulated over the Ignihyde sector.
You’re still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes when you make it onto the scene. Grim is babbling, still clinging onto the last remnants of tiredness. Due to his lack of focus, the transformation spell was clumsy. Your bows are all crooked.
The Watchman of the Underworld is large, the size of a small skyscraper. The mech he pilots is gaudy. Too many small useless details that make your head spin. Furthermore, the bright blue flames erupting from the top of its head hurts your recently awoken eyes.
“MWAH HA HA. This time it’ll be game over for you, Yuuna!” You can faintly see The Watchman in the control room from the mechs glass eye.
He talks a lot. In lingo you haven’t used since middle school. He did tend to go quiet when he was mad though…new goal set.
“Take a gander at this!” A laser beam shoots out from the other eye, straight at you. You barely have time to dodge, rolling onto a nearby building. Your sleeve has been completely singed off. Damn it!
This mech is all new and improved, you can tell that much. You can hear him cackling as you get up, dusting off your uniform you grip your staff tightly, it simmers with magic.
The Watchman is tricky to fight. The mech is huge, it could easily destroy everything in its path, either purposefully or accidentally. You didn’t think the guy drunk with power cared about a few buildings. Along with that, it was fire repellent, which meant no fire magic.
You channeled magic into your body. Seems like you would have to tear it down bit by bit.
With one last appendage ripped of the mech you launch yourself into the glass eye of the mech, leg first. You see The Watchman’s expression get increasingly more terrified the closer you get. He raises his arms in a defense, his hair turning more orange by the second. The blot covering his body would act as a shield, but it would protect him. You were sure of it.
He just manages to dodge out of the way as you break in. You crash through the glass, it breaks easily under the pressure of your foot.
You tumble slightly, but quickly regain your footing, holding a defensive position.
“This ends now.” He doesn’t pay you any mind, too busy rapidly tapping away on a holographic screen.
“Are y—Are you seriously ignoring me!?” The nerve of this guy!
You begin a chant of restraints but quickly fall out of balance as a sudden rumbling takes hold of the control room.
You don’t have enough time to resume your chant as a small cylinder pod comes out of the ground and opens up, and a small humanoid robot opens its eyes and launches itself at you.
You yelp as you’re pushed back through the glass and into the cold night air.
The humanoid has flame blue hair and sharp teeth like his creator. Though it takes you a second to recognize him. He looks different from last time you saw him. He now wears mechanical black tactical gear, probably flame repellent. You can’t see his holograph yellow eyes as they’re covered by a black dog mask..? Moreover, the rest of his body shares the same dog-like features his hands—no paws are sharp, same thing with his legs, now paws.
Ortho. Last time you saw him he was unmoving on the ground, having overworked his energy system.
Good to know he was back in working condition.
You can’t help but let a grin form on your face.
“Long time no see!”
He doesn’t indulge you with a response but you can see his, now uncovered, face beam.
His boosters shoot you downwards. Straight into the ground. Grim is panicking, flailing around in your hand. You’re moving so fast that lifting your arms is almost impossible, so, you don’t try to. You summon as much defensive magic into your back at you can.
The landing onto the concrete isn’t that bad. It still hurts, no doubt about that, but at least you have the ability to stand up. It’s clumsy and your hold on your staff is weak but—
In a flash, Ortho rips the staff out of your hand and spears it away from you. Grin’s screech slowly fades away with the increasing distance.
You furrow your eyebrows and look at the boy. “That was rude.”
He shrugs sheepishly, vocalizes a quick ‘sorry!’, and then blasts off towards the control room of the mech, no doubt going to flee with his creator.
You look in the direction of where Grim was thrown and sigh. You don’t have to have the staff in your hold to use Grim’s magic but it becomes much more unstable. And the Ignihyde sector has already seen enough destruction tonight.
You jog over to the yowling cat. He’s stuck in between some rubble, sounding like he’s about to cry.
By the time you free him The Watchman and Ortho are already gone. The mech slumps over, still standing.
The lights in the control room are off.
Saturdays are a struggle.
Sundays are melancholic. You’re mentally preparing to go back to work the next day. Dreading it, you attempt to get some shut eye.
It’s around 5am, just about when the sun is about to come up when you hear it, or rather feel it. Soft vibrations that jolt you awake. You rush to the Diasomnia district prior to your blot senses going off.
You feel The Lord Of Malevolence before you see him. The vibrations are ten time worse in the area, every step causing buildings to shift and creek. He's large, almost tall enough to hit any landing planes.
He trudges through, blot creating almost a snail trail after him. Green eyes lazily scan through the town.
The Lord never talks much. You were no therapist but he almost seemed...sad? Though it didn't really matter when he's creating millions of dollars worth of property damage. Your job was to defeat him, get him out of his dragon form. and down to a manageable size.
When you float down in front of his eyes he remains silent, he exhales, smoke erupts from his nostrils, tiredly. Its seems like he knows what's about to happen. Though you doubt he'll go down without a fight. It would make your job too easy.
The Lord is never fun to fight. He doesn't give you anything to play off of. No teasing remarks. No degrading. Kinda borning.
He's a master of all elements, able to switch seamlessly. Furthermore, his sleep magic, if it hits, would be deemed unfavorable. You're pretty uncertain that your aurora-eyed savor will come to save you a second time.
Grim grumbles with uncertainty. The sleep had long since left both of you.
The smell of ash fills the air as you ready your staff.
With a few building decimated with a human shaped imprints imbedded in the walls later, The Lord was defeated.
He shrinks down, temporarily filling the district with steam. You slowly descend, a blank expression on your face. Fights like these made you remember yourself. You took on the persona of Yuuna for a reason.
The Lord, now at human-size, sits in almost a fetal position. His eyes, tired, are the only part of his face that isn't covered by hair, blot, injuries, or a combination of all three.
"Sorry about this." Its the only pleasantry you can muster. Blue flames tightly wrap around him. He doesn't fight it.
You can faintly make out the sound of incoming police sirens.
"It seems like our time is up."
"It seems so." He gives you a small smile, almost apologetic. "Good luck, Child of Man."
...good luck?
A small pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, giving you a tight squeeze. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. You hadn't sensed a thing.
"Boo!" You don't move. You don't even react. A head leans on your shoulders. You turn your head to see exactly whom you've feared.
The General.
You see his pink highlights and toothy grin for a split second before he's removing himself from you. You spin your body in his direction, staff at the ready just as a bolt of green propels into you.
The breath is knocked from your lungs. Through bleary eyes you see The General wave goodbye to you before making his way to his master. You're in no position to worry about that as The Bolt is tackling you through a building.
You land on your back, his weight pressed into your midsection, locking his arms around you so tightly that you're sure to have bruises in the morning.
You whack him with your staff, huffing through a chant as his impossibly tight hold somehow manages to get tighter. Your spell is only about half as effective as it normally is but it gets the job done.
In a flash of fire he's thrown off you into nearby rubble. You take the time while he's discombobulated to regain your balance. The back half of your uniform is ripped to smithereens, revealing your now cut up back. The morning air stings as it brushes against it.
The Bolt yelps in pain, slowly regaining his bearings. You won't allow him to. Just as he peaks his head out the spell is already on your tongue, now infused with a little bit of healthy rage.
The spell never hits, though. A silver blade reflects it into the side of the building.
BOOM
The Knight stands there. As elegant as ever. The falling rubble makes him look annoyingly cool. His helmet firmly over his head, not a single hair escapes it.
He points his sword at you, saying something to your assailant in the rubble. Whatever they are discussing is debatable topic based on the way The Bolt strongly argues back. Their conversation is cut short by the blast of flames the shoots towards them.
The Knight in the nick of time manages to push The Bolt out of the way and they go tumbling. He shouts something at his companion, marking the conversation effectively over.
The Knight is quick to regain his balance, a fierce determination to his stance.
You inhale. Hold your breath for a few seconds. Exhale.
Your battle takes you through the multiple floors of the building. It’s irritating how graceful his movements are. Always paring your slowing attacks. Hitting you with a barrage of confusing movements. Never hurting you too badly.
It’s when you reach the highest floor of the building do you put your foot down.
"Fight me!" Your hands are white from the intensity of your grip on your staff. Grim whimpers in your hold. You know that The Lord and General are probably long gone. You refuse to accept another failure. You'll at least capture their underling. One or both. It doesn't matter.
The Knight pauses, slightly shifts his weight foot to the other. You prepare for another attack that never comes.
He cocks his head towards the broken window. The intensity of which you both fought having destroyed the glass long ago.
As if some sort of signal was shown he straightens back up. Stiff as a board. His sword lowers and he has the utter audacity to bow.
“You fought well. Thank you.” It catches you off guard. You hate how sincere he sounds.
Using your sudden bewilderment, he pounces. Grim is knocked out of your hand. He slides towards the other side of the room. You bolt towards the staff. The Knight bolts in the opposite direction.
You began vocalizing the spell before you even touch Grim. You snap around, holding Grim like a minigun as a burst of flames engulfs the room.
When the smoke clears you jump up. Nothing. You run over to the window, broken glass crunching underneath your shoes. Wild eyes scan back and forth and back and forth and back and forth—nothing.
No Knight. No Bolt. No General. And especially no Lord Of Malevolence.
The feline is quiet. Your harsh breathing fills the scene.
“Let’s go home, Henchman.”
…
“okay.”
Sundays are wretched.
Monday is tomorrow and you’ll do it all over again. Hopefully next week is more satisfactory.
A/N: Yuuna is good at their job I swear! This was originally going to be a longer Vil fic but I never got the momentum to finish it. I really did enjoy writing this tho!
Flashbacks to when I played this game in the high school library and my beloved gym teacher told me to log off😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 I was sabotaged i didnt even draw the pensi
OH SHIVER ME TIMBERS THIS IS PROBABLY THE HOTTEST CLUB UNIFORM SO FAR WE'RE SO BACK TO PONYTAIL SILVER AHEHHEHHEHEHEHE 😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦😦 I CAN'T WAIT FOR SEBEK AND RIDDLESNAJDJAJANABHAHD
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