“Take what you need,” Tim said, waving toward the tiny armory, and he probably shouldn’t have been surprised that the little tribe of assassins immediately started pushing and shoving to get at the best gear. It made sense to have his armory in an easily concealed recess when it was just for him; he hadn’t anticipated it being utilized as a weapons buffet for a small army.
He decided to let them sort that out amongst themselves. “No murder,” he directed, sinking into his chair, his hands already going a mile a minute over the keys as he checked all his systems for updates and alerts.
“We wouldn’t,” said one of them.
“Not each other,” said another, which Tim could tell by rhythm, but not by any difference in the sound.
A lot of people wouldn’t be treating them like people. Tim knew that. The impulse had been there for him, too, especially when the suspicious little face staring up at him in septuplicate had been that of someone he had never gotten along with, who had in fact consistently used his every moment of generosity or compassion against him.
But he couldn’t call himself Connor’s friend and not respect the rights of a bunch of clones who’d run away from their maker seeking independence.
If they turned out to be evil then he’d regret arming them, but he had a lot of sympathy for how naked they obviously felt without any means of self-defense, and under the circumstances that was a pretty decisive reason to arm them.
No major local Gotham issues developing he had to somehow balance this with, a relief. No signs of movement from the League as a whole, outside Talia’s personal staff who were definitely moving. No word from the family, either. Had the kids actually made it all the way here without raising any alerts?
He started digging.
“We’re ready,” said one of them, directly to Tim enough that it broke through his screening-out of their ongoing bickering. He looked over.
“None of you need high explosives,” he announced. “I don’t even carry those unless they’re specifically called for in a mission plan. None of you need any bombs, actually. Put all of those back.”
There was a lot of grumbling, but astonishingly they appeared willing to listen. He hadn’t even needed to invoke the specter of Bruce’s disapproval. New bickering started up as previous trades were declared invalid by those who’d received explosives they weren’t allowed to keep.
Tim was probably very poorly adjusted, six year olds squabbling over grenades shouldn’t be adorable. It was increasingly obvious that either Talia had been educating these telepathically, or letting them out of the tubes for training of some kind. He was used to people whose ages didn’t match their bodies, and these didn’t quite give that vibe, but they weren’t normal, either.
The little boy who’d told him they were done kept staring at Tim; he didn’t seem to be carrying any bombs. He had one of Tim’s bandoliers draped across his chest; it was cinched as tight as it would go and the bottom edge still hung against his upper thigh.
“Yeah?” Tim asked, after the silent staring had gone on long enough.
“You’re helping.”
“Yeah?” Tim said, because that wasn’t an answer or a question. “You asked.”
Well, one of them had. They’d all been dressed alike before they started putting on his stuff, he didn’t know which one had called out wait, when he’d pretended he was going to leave them to fight off eight adult ninjas on their own, without weapons.
He’d half-expected someone to call his bluff, or else give up theirs, but the tone of that wait hadn’t been that at all. It had just been.
Well. He’d turned around.
“You brought us to your home.” Did the League disincentivize asking questions? Yes, they did, come to think of it. Damian had avoided asking them too, though it was less obvious when papered over with that much bluster and arrogance and homicide.
“My place was closest,” said Tim. It had been literally a block away.
“You haven’t called anyone else.”
There wasn’t a nice way to say that if they were a trap, he’d prefer it only caught him.
“Do you want me to?” he asked instead.
The little spokesman slowly shook his head. “He’d come. Wouldn’t he.”
Bruce? No. Damian. “Robin?” Tim asked.
He still wasn’t happy that the name belonged to the demon brat now, but the little horde had responded to ‘Damians’ when he rallied them after they put the League hunters down, and he didn’t know how uncomfortable it would make them to have it applied to just the original. Assuming he was the original, who even knew. He could be version twelve.
The spokesman nodded.
“You want to avoid him?” Then why come to Gotham?
The little spokesman shrugged.
“We don’t want to see him yet,” said another boy over his shoulder, one of the ones who’d strung half a dozen grenades on one of Tim’s belts and had now replaced them with smoke bombs.
“Yes,” said the spokesman, whose nickname was already starting to seem ironic.
Tim addressed that. “Okay, and by the way what do I call you? I can’t just keep saying ‘Damians.’”
The Damians, all of them now fully armed and without visible bombs, clumped up briefly for a silent conference. Were they psychic? He hoped they weren’t psychic.
The names they gave when they were done hopefully whispering were just ordinal numbers in Farsi. More horribly, they weren’t contiguous.
“Will more of you be joining us later?” Tim asked, and got ‘no’ from the spokesman in the bandolier, whose number was Sizdahum, thirteenth.
This was not the time and Tim was not the person to compromise their stoicism on that, so he moved on without comment. If they needed to leave Gotham again to avoid meeting Damian before they were ready, that was acceptable to the collective. Yes, they would welcome his help making a satisfactory entrance. Yes, they realized making a good impression on Batman was at least as important as making one on Robin.
“And now?” asked smoke bomb kid, numbered Haftum, seventh. He was the one who moved the most, was hardly ever still, in contrast to Sizdahum who didn’t seem to move at all without a specific reason. It was going to be a struggle learning to identify them all by cues like this before they used or rearranged some of the equipment he was using to tell them apart for now; Tim suspected they’d forgive some errors.
He shut down most of the processes on his computer, though he left it on in case of any important updates, and turned his back to it. Folded his hands, his elbows propped on his swivel-chair’s arms. He was slightly taller than they were even sitting down.
“Now we plan. Our options are limited, especially if we want to avoid Robin. My defenses here are good against intruders, but if they don’t want you alive they can just destroy the building.”
He looked expectantly at the attentive row of pint-size Damians. Tactical information please, first graders.
“We’re just spares,” scoffed Haftum.
“They won’t hold back,” said Chihaarum, fourth. He was the lowest number in the room, unless you counted Tim, whose number was of course three.
“Ra’s would prefer me alive, but not enough to make it easy for me, and these are Talia’s people. I have a much better-secured bunker some way out of town. If we can shake off pursuit I can access a van that can get us all there. If necessary, I have contacts that can help with extraction to a secure location.” Kon and Bart would be 100% willing to be called in on this. Tim would rather not risk them, but they couldn’t possibly be the intended targets if this was a trick, so it was better than calling the family, and he wasn’t going to let these kids get killed for his paranoia.
“Objections, concerns?” None were volunteered. Tim could enjoy working with such a professional team if it weren’t so creepy. He initiated system lockdown. “We’d better move out.”
They nodded, and Shishum took point out the roof exit once its location was indicated. Tim let him, because they’d apparently made it halfway around the world without his supervision and he remembered how annoying it had been trying to get adults to take him seriously and having his competence utterly dismissed on the basis of his age.
Tim did insist on being the first one to step out of cover once they were all on the roof. No one seemed to be holding any of the sniper posts that could target his roof, so he motioned the kids after him. Counted them off, 4-6-7-9-11-13-14.
“Chahardahum,” he whispered, identifying the boy by the oversized Kevlar vest he’d thrown on. “Stay lower, we’re trying for stealth. And can I call you Chadah?” He wanted to respect their individuality even if it was numbers, but four syllables, three of them fairly long, wasn’t ideal for this sort of situation, especially when it sounded so similar to Chiharum that no mumbling could be allowed.
The boy named Fourteenth rolled his shoulders in a shrug, then nodded. He didn’t like the idea, clearly, but he accepted it.
“Great. Thanks. Let’s go.” Red Robin took off over the roofs, leading his trail of ducklings and keeping an eye on what their comfortable jumping range was as he tried to plan a sneaky route that was physically possible.
The order they fell into was unexpected, with Shishum at the front instead of a flank and Sizdahum bringing up the rear, and he resisted the urge to give directions about who should be where. They knew their own skillsets better than he did, micromanaging was not going to help here.
Of course, with the size of his current forces, any managing he did would be micro.
Kink!Fic | Vampires, Thrall -- Gavin900
Heavily inspired by @mercurial-tenacity ‘s amazing grindelgraves fictober update, ugh it was so good it had me some kinda way.
“Why am I here again?” Gavin groused as he slid up to the bar next to Hank, scowl firm on his face. “S’my night off.”
“You were just gonna lurk around some shit hole like this anyway,” Hank said, sliding a beer to Gavin despite the toxicity of their words.
Gavin snorted, popped the top off his beer on the edge of the counter and said, “You don’t know my life, shithead.”
Hank rolled his eyes and jerked his chin over his shoulder to a dark seating area on the far wall, away from the dance floor, and with a blink Gavin realized that Connor was over there.
“What the fuck is he wearing?” Gavin asked, truly too baffled by the robot’s overly large coat, beanie and general dock-worker grunge look to manage to keep up his clever quips.
“Thinks that makes him undercover. Don’t worry about it,” Hank shot back, “Kid’s got a lead on that serial killer we been tracking. A hunch, I guess. He thinks it’s more than one person. A cult maybe. And he thinks one of the people comes here. But the guy knows Connor’s face and I definitely don’t fit in. We need someone who doesn’t look like a cop.”
“Asshole,” Gavin muttered, “That’s real cute way to say ‘we need your help, Gavin’. You think you really got something on that vampire-wanna-be killer?”
It was tempting. The case was a hot one. There had been a lot of victims and no progress. There was a hefty bonus for whoever cracked it.
Hank sighed, fed up, and barked, “We need your help, Gavin. You willing to meet this guy or not?”
Gavin kicked at his bottle cap and watched it go skittering across the ground before sucking at his lip and sneering, “Fuck, fine, whatever. Who am I looking out for and what do ya need to know?”
Hank grinned.
“First thing’s first,” he said, reaching down to the duffel beside his chair and pushing it harshly into Gavin’s chest, “Kid says you’ll need to get changed. Guy likes a certain look, if you feel me.”
Gavin opened the duffel and turned red.
“Oh hell no!”
“You want that bonus or what, kid?”
“Fuck you, Hank!”
Twenty minutes later Gavin was teetering around the edge of the active bar, tugging uncomfortably at the mesh shirt Hank had somehow convinced him was “for the good of the case”. The leather pants pinched. The only saving grace, if you could even call it that, was the sleeveless hoodie he had drawn over his head, more a crop top than any proper covering for his torso, but the hood gave him a little comfort. More than he had without it. At least his nipples weren’t exposed anymore.
But he needed to look like the victims. Like bait. Mission a-fucking-ccomplished.
“This is ridiculous,” Gavin snarled beneath his breath so only the communications device he had hidden near his ear would catch it. From the shadows of the corner, away from all the action, he knew Hank was laughing.
“You look cute, kid.”
“Fuck off, grandpa!”
“You really wanna get into age?”
Gavin grumbled but dropped it. He sipped from his beer, nearly empty, and scanned for the man Connor had described. An android. A brawny, tall man with russet hair and programmed to 'invite’ certain people for a ‘good time’ with the killer, if Connor’s hunch was right. And evidently Gavin was on the menu.
Based off the description the guy shouldn’t have been hard to find, and yet the more Gavin looked, the harder it seemed to parse people out of the crowd. The bar was getting lively quick, the music almost so thick he couldn’t quite hear Hank – and he definitely couldn’t see him anymore.
Focused as he was, he nearly leapt out of his skin when a hand touched his nearly naked lower back and asked into his ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Jesus, man, give a guy a heart attack,” Gavin growled, pulling away. He turned to look and blinked, dumbstruck by the sight of Connor’s face, only different. His eyes were blue like the ice of a glacier, and he was taller. Broader, even. His LED was missing. And his skin... Androids looked nearly indistinguishable from humans, but Gavin knew the difference between synthetic and human skin. This guy looked... real.
“Apologies. You were just so eye-catching, I couldn’t help myself.”
Gavin grunted and looked the man up and down. He was clad in a tight black v-neck, a sleek biker coat and biker gloves, and Gavin wondered if he actually rode or if he was just one of those pricks that liked to look the part.
“Yeah, well, paws off. I’m waiting for someone.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, stepping into Gavin’s space.
He opened his mouth to snap that the guy better check himself and step off, but then he caught sight of those eyes again and couldn’t seem to look away. They were churning somehow, distracting. Something was wrong.
“Wha—” His tongue thick and for a moment he wondered if he had been roofied before the thought was plucked from his head as though it had never been. He whimpered, confused, only aware that he had been thinking of something important but couldn’t remember what anymore.
“Good,” the man purred. “Let’s dance.”
He was dragged out onto the floor before he could even wrap his head around it, caught in the middle of a mob of dancing people as hands – maybe the stranger’s, maybe others’ – traced the sharpness of his hip bones that poked out from between his too tight pants and the meager cover of his mesh top. Dipping into his crop top, tweaking his nipples, lowering his hood to nibble on his neck. The music was thought-melting, driving all reason from his mind, and his limbs felt as though they were on autopilot as he swayed with the music and followed the direction those hands.
“I think I’m going to keep you,” a voice said into his throat, skin pinched by sharp canines but nothing broke.
“D-dun even know your n-name,” Gavin mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth and brows furrowed as an alarm bell rang in his head but he couldn’t figure out why.
“Hmm… I prefer not to share my given name,” the man said, pulling back to lock those strange eyes on him again, pleased with what he saw – a man, a cop, debauched, blushing and so malleable in his clutches. “But you can call me Nines.”
Nines.
Case files flooded his mind. Pictures of victims, locations, witness stories. All they had was a calling card – a solitary card from a beautifully designed solitaire set: the nine of hearts.
His heart began to thunder, but even that slowly stilled beneath the man’s gaze as he held him close and forced them both to continue dancing as though nothing was the matter.
“But y’can’t be an a-android,” Gavin muttered mostly to himself, baffled by the face he shared with Connor. Had Connor set him up? No... No... His thoughts got fuzzy again and he whined when Nines nipped him with a little chuckle and a soft, “Poor confused little cop.”
He pulled back and grinned, and his teeth were sharper than they should have been.
“Where do you think they got the design from? Fitting, don’t you think? To design the ageless after the immortal.”
Oh God, Gavin breathed, cursing as his body melted into those hands and that mouth returned to his throat, the nipping just as innocently as before and yet if felt so different now. More dangerous. He tried to reach for his headset to find it gone. He couldn’t see Hank, he couldn’t—
“Ssh, I’ve got you.”
All thought melted away as Nines’ tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting both sweet and yet strangely coppery. Nines kissed him like he was hellbent on sucking the very air from Gavin’s lungs, and he only parted when the man looked fully gone, eyes blank and lust-filled as he melted into his touch and awaited directions -- throat swollen, blood just at the surface, waiting to be pierced. Nines’ brushed that spot with a thumb and chuckled, “Yes. I think I’ll keep you, little cop. You’re just too much fun.”
Hank and Connor shoved their way through the crowd, but they couldn’t find him.
MC: I dare you to answer five questions truthfully
Tulip: alright then
MC: Who’s your crush amongst the group?
Tulip: not gonna tell you that
MC: But I dared yo-
Tulip: you said to answer five questions but you never specified which questions so I will answer five questions truthfully but I can do it anytime and with any question and you won’t even know
MC: .... dammit
———————————————————————————————————
Barnaby: *explodes the table*
MC: for the last time barnaby, we’re playing truth or dare, not exploding snap
Barnaby: okay then, I dare you to play exploding snap with me ... please?
Rowan: well ‘like’ is a very vague term that connotes different forms of affection for another individual, if you meant romantic like then all of you except Bi- I mean someone is my least liked person because I like you all platonically, but if you meant platonical like then I like Bi- I mean a certain person least because technically I like them more romantically than platonically, but if you meant like in general as a person in terms of characteristics and other aspects of their personality then-
MC: I change my question! I change my question so please stop
———————————————————————————————————
Andre: Yes your fashion choices are sometimes questionable, Yes I was lying when I said you looked fine that time you asked, no I don’t think denim on denim will last, it’s just a short terrible trend and lastly Tonks, she definitely has the best fashion sense out of you lot
Everyone: ....
MC: Andre, we haven’t even asked anything yet... but wOw
———————————————————————————————————
Penny: challenge accepted!
*disappears for a bit before coming back with a very sour looking Professor snape*
MC: Penny what are you doing?
Penny: you dared me to do something impossible and I did!
MC: first of all that was a joke, second of all, why bring snape?
Penny: well we all thought it was impossible for him to hate you any more than he did but look at that, he can hate you much more!
MC: *flinching from snape’s glare* gee... thanks Penny
Penny: you’re very welcome!
———————————————————————————————————
Tonks: done
Everyone: 🤨
MC: what do you mean done? We haven’t given you a dare yet
Tonks: Yes you did, you dared me to set off dungbombs in the teacher’s lounge
Everyone: 😱
MC: we were discussing! I said what if!
Tonks: oops... I should probably hide now
MC: *hearing Snape and the other professors spouting profanity* that’s probably best
———————————————————————————————————
Ben: truth!
Ben: no dare!
Ben: wait truth!
Ben: I mean dare!
Ben: *incoherent screaming*
MC: Ben we told you that you didn’t have to play!
Ben: now you’re kicking me out?! *louder incoherent screaming*
Imagine a Date With Yakuza!Hanzo Going Terribly Wrong, but He’s Still Trying to Make the Best Out of it (Fictober):
A/N: Alternative title: “Imagine Burying a Dead Body With Yakuza!Hanzo”
“You do still look incredibly attractive in that outfit, you know.”
You glanced over your formerly expensively nice, now grime-covered attire before looking up at Hanzo with a glare. “Really? Right now?”
“Just trying to keep the romance alive,” the equally nicely dressed but now dirtied man responded, raising his hands in defense.
You rolled your eyes before getting back to work; unfortunately, Hanzo wasn’t the one standing in a freshly opened grave. You grabbed your shovel again and used it to pry open the old, weathered coffin you’d both just finished digging up. After doing so, you assessed the container’s contents--some poor sap who’d withered away to bone a long time ago--and what space was left. After gauging at the spot was appropriate, you gave a curt nod and scrambled out of the deep hole.
“Alright, let’s get the body chunks and bury this guy,” you said, as if that were the most normal of phrases, “You owe me dinner.”
Hanzo flashed you a smirk as he picked up the first of several degradable bags laying nearby, tossing it into the open coffin. “I do love it when you take charge.”
“Would you like to join the grave party? Because I can make that happen, then treat myself to dinner, and a shopping spree.”
Ishida Mitsunari stared up at the blue sky of autumn, unseeing at first, and then all too aware of the colour that matched the personal banners of the lord of Echigo. His lips tightened against newly-understood emotions that he had no desire to share, and he turned abruptly and left the castle courtyard for the sanctuary of his private room.
She’d chosen Uesugi Kenshin with her whole heart, the gods only knew why. The mad God of War had imprisoned her and frightened her; had later slaughtered thousands in the name of protecting her forever.
A hand fell on his shoulder, and then Lord Hideyoshi’s warm amber-gold eyes--so different from the ice-field blue and green of Uesugi--were regarding him with careful concern and the silent promise that he’d be allowed to deal with today’s hurt in whatever way suited him best--for now.
~ Imp (ah Kenshin, you chatelaine-stealer)
Note: Mitsunari is the official “unrequited love” of Kenshin’s route.
Once you are completely broken, you will find him again (Hogwarts Mystery Imagine - HPHM Fictober 2018 day 7 Halloween special)
Masterlist (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)
Prompt: Voices from nowhere (HPHM Fictober - Halloween special Prompts day 8 @hphm-fictober)
Summary: Your life was far from perfect. Your home situation has been terrible as long as you could remember. Yet, no one seemed to be suspecting a thing. You managed to pretend everything was perfect for too long. You were about to break and you knew it. The voices weren’t helping you either. Still, it didn’t matter in your opinion. As long as you would find Jacob in the process, you would do anything. Your friends notice something is off, but they might be too late to do something to help you.
Warning: Dark Jacob, manipulated fem!reader, abusive and manipulative home
Words: 3.5k
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‘I know you can still hear me.’
You were sure you were going mad. You have been noticing things that no one else reacts to. You were the only one who could hear it. Was this the new curse of the Cursed Vaults? Did this happen to Jacob when he was looking for the last Vault? Whatever this was, was making you exhausted.
‘You are about to breakdown. I can feel it. Once you do, you will find what you want.’
The voice seemed to be inside your head. You couldn’t block it out no matter what you tried. Not only was it talking to you, but it was slowly manipulating you. You noticed how it would try to change your mind. It made you doubt everyone around you.
‘That’s because nobody can be trusted.’
You rubbed your temples a bit, wondering if they voice would just shut up for once. You couldn’t concentrate on anything at the moment. Maybe it would leave you alone if you could figure out who this was.
‘Just think of me as a personal guide.’
Personal guide? What kind of personal guide did you have in your head?
‘One that will help you on your way to greatness. Just let me guide you.’
“Y/N?”
You looked up, noticing Rowan and the others were looking at you. “What?”
“Have you heard what I was talking about?” Rowan asked.
“Sorry, I haven’t heard it.” You admitted. “I was a bit distracted.”
“It’s fine, Y/N.” Rowan said.
“Maybe you should get some rest, Y/N. You have been spacing out a lot lately.” Penny suggested.
“Yeah, maybe I should.” You said with a small grin.
‘A perfect moment for you to meet us.’
Of course, one voice wasn’t enough. You noticed the voice sounded a lot different from the other one.
‘That’s because I am another one.’
‘A distracting one.’
You knew this wasn’t going to help you at all. You needed to get away from everyone now. “I will see you guys later.” You told your friends before you began walking away. This was going to be a disaster, you were sure of it.
‘We can help you though.’
‘You just have to listen to us.’
Why would you listen to them? So far, they have been keeping you awake, making you question your sanity.
‘You want to find your brother, don’t you?’
Jacob… What did they know about Jacob?
‘A lot more than you think. We can bring you to him.’
‘However, you will need to pay a price for it.’
You knew you would probably do anything if you could save your brother, no matter what price you would have to pay. In your opinion, you already sacrificed a lot in order to save your brother. You knew your mental health was going down each year. You felt like your mind was damaged.
‘You are damaged. That’s why I need you to breakdown. In the end it will help you find your brother.’
You weren’t sure how a breakdown would help you find your brother. However, you were willing to give it a try.
‘Keep on walking, you are close.’
‘We will tell you when you need to turn or when you are in the right place.’
You didn’t know why you would trust the voices in your head. Voices that appeared out of nowhere. All you knew that it was like they slowly had been taking over you. You began hearing them somewhere in the beginning of the year. You were able to ignore them most of the time, but over the months they became more persistent. It was hard to ignore when you were slowly struggling to keep up with everything.
‘Cut and paste a smile on your face. No one has to know what you are up to.’
As if you weren’t already doing that. It became one of your specialties. You have been teaching yourself to smile more naturally over the summer, pretending everything was fine. Actually, that was something you had to do every year you came back from Hogwarts. Your parents were always trying to be the perfect family.
What was perfect? Nothing you did was perfect in their eyes. Your brother was also not perfect. They blamed him for your failures. They would try to sculp you into the perfect woman in the end. Everything to keep the image up despite all the rumours that were spread about you. Slowly breaking you in the progress. You always thought Hogwarts would keep you sane, but you knew that was all a lie. Now you were about to crumble. You were as damaged as Jacob was before he disappeared. You remembered his eyes used to sparkle, but the last summer you saw him, you noticed his eyes were looking dull. Your eyes were slowly looking dull. Yet, no one seemed to notice.
‘Stop. You are here.’
You blinked when you were standing in front of a wall. Why would you find your brother here? There was nothing but a wall.
‘That’s because you need to offer something to it.’
What could you offer to a wall? It didn’t make sense. Then again, did the Cursed Vaults make any sense?
‘Something that is personal. Think about what happens when you injure yourself.’
Blood… The wall wanted your blood. Maybe you could prick your finger?
‘That’s not enough.’
So, it needed more than just a drop of blood? A cut perhaps?
‘If you want to see Jacob, you will have to do something.’
‘Think bigger.’
‘Only the broken can find what they need.’
You pulled out your wand and wondered if this little spell you came across once could help you out. Normally, it would be used against your enemies. However, in this case you seemed to be your own enemy… Maybe you could use it on yourself.
‘Now you are thinking the right way. However, that might be a little too much for now.’
“When will you get it through that thick skull of yours that your behaviour is unacceptable?!”
Another summer of being scolded by your parents. There was a reason you didn’t want to go home ever. They would just judge and try to force their ideas in your head.
“You are a Y/L/N, you are supposed to a lady.” Your mother said.
You couldn’t speak up, not sure what to say to them. Fighting against them was useless, you would get punished. However, not saying anything wasn’t appreciated either.
You were slapped across the face by your father. “What are you supposed to be?” He asked you.
“A lady.” You mumbled as calmly as possible.
“What kind of lady?” He asked.
“A perfect one.”
“Good answer.” He said and then he looked at your mother. “Pick something that will make her look like a perfect representative. Important people from the Ministry will come over in an hour.”
Your mother nodded and then she looked at you. “You can’t escape the life you were born in.” She whispered to you. “It will never work out.”
You watched your own mother picking an outfit for you. Besides the outfit, she was going to tell you how to do you hair and make-up. You felt like a doll. Pretty on the outside, but empty on the inside.
“Just look pretty and speak up only when you are asked to.” Your mother instructed once you were ready.
You slowly began understanding what the voices were telling you. Jacob wasn’t behind the wall. No, but the wall represented something else. You were a wall. However, your wall was slowly crumbling. Some bricks were missing and you would slowly cease to exist. Jacob also used to be a wall, but he slowly ceased to exist. Jacob was never missing. No, Jacob was no more. Jacob was dead. Your brother had taken his own life because he couldn’t live the life he was born into.
‘Almost right…’
You were confused. You thought dying was the solution to find Jacob again. Jacob was dead, right?
‘He’s not dead.’
‘You will see Jacob again. You wall needs to be destroyed before you can build a new one again. A better one.’
So, the wall is actually an entrance. The last vault would be there and your brother would be waiting for you.
‘That is correct. He is there, waiting for you to see him.’
You looked around to see if someone was around. Luckily, no one was. You could do whatever you wanted to do. You used a spell to cut your hand open. Once the blood came out, you pressed your hand against the wall, waiting for an entrance to show up.
A door seemed to appear, almost like the Room of Requirement. However, you knew it was a different room. You once again glanced around, wondering if someone had seen you activate the room. You still didn’t see anyone, so you opened the door.
‘Very good, Y/N. You are closer to the truth.’
You walked inside the dark room. You had to use Lumos to see where you were going. It revealed a stairway going down. Without questioning anything you walked down, ready to face whatever was waiting for you.
“I’m worried about Y/N.” Rowan admitted. “She is not herself lately.”
“This entire year she has been acting off.” Tulip pointed out. “It’s like Y/N was replaced by someone else.”
“Well, doesn’t she usually act like this during the beginning of the year?” Penny asked. “She does seem to have another mindset during the first week.”
“Maybe because Y/N doesn’t like it to spend the summer at her home.” Merula said honestly.
People raised an eyebrow at Merula. “What do you mean?” Ben asked.
“Come on, haven’t you ever seen the Y/L/N family? That family has a reputation to keep high.” Merula said. “The whole Jacob fiasco made the family act like he was never their son in the first place.”
“How come you know all those things, Merula?” Rowan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Let’s say my family knew Y/N’s family. They also knew Barnaby’s family.” Merula said honestly.
“Really? I can’t really remember that…” Barnaby said.
“That’s because they limited their contact with our families after our parents got in Azkaban.” Merula said.
Andre blinked. “Wait, does that mean that Y/N’s family were supporters of…”
“Her grandparents were. They never found evidence Y/N’s parents were associated with You-Know-Who though.” Merula said.
“Families who like the Dark Arts often have huge expectations of their children.” Barnaby said. “That’s why my father always pushed me to be stronger.”
“These kinds of families want their children to be the best and perfect.” Merula mumbled. “I’m glad my parents never got the change to sculp me into that kind of lady.”
“So, what you are saying is that Y/N’s family has been trying to make Y/N into the perfect lady?” Tulip asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I would have given up if I were them.” Tonks said. “There is no way Y/N would turn into one, right?”
“Well, they obviously failed to change Jacob, so they might try harder to keep up their image with Y/N?” Tulip said.
“Obviously.” Merula muttered, rolling her eyes before she stood up. “I think it would be better if we keep an eye on Y/N… Something is off…”
Charlie, Barnaby and Tulip stood up quickly as well. Rowan, Penny, Tonks and Ben looked at each other before they stood up as well. They needed to find you and fast.
They were all on the way to your common room, thinking it would be the first place they should check. However, they did come across you. Or at least they caught a glimpse of you when you entered the room no one has seen ever before. They quickly rushed over to the door, trying to keep it from closing.
“Is Y/N usually that fast?” Andre asked when they opened the door. You were nowhere to be seen.
“I think we should actually get inside, everyone.” Penny said, grabbing her wand and used Lumos.
The rest of the group followed Penny’s example. Everyone got inside the room, hearing door behind them close. They were pretty sure it locked itself as well. They all noticed the stairway down and the all knew they would have to go down to find you.
Slowly, they realised this place was having a strange effect on them.
Penny was the first one who spoke up. “Why can’t we trust anyone?”
Tonks raised an eyebrow at Penny. “What are you talking about?”
“You guys didn’t hear it?” Penny asked. “Someone said we can’t trust anyone.”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Tonks said.
“Me neither, Penny.” Andre said.
“Wait… Who is going to stab me in the back?” Barnaby mumbled.
“Stab you in the back? What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Charlie asked.
“That’s what I heard.” Barnaby said.
“I only keep hearing I can’t trust anyone.” Penny mumbled.
“Maybe we should just head back…” Ben mumbled. “This isn’t going to end well…”
“Guys, you are all hearing things that aren’t there!” Rowan said. “Y/N is already down there and Merlin knows what is happening to her.”
“Great… Now I’m hearing stuff too.” Merula muttered.
“This doesn’t make any sense!” Tulip said.
“Maybe this is the Vault of Doubt?” Penny said softly.
“Yes! That must be it! This is the curse of this vault.” Rowan said.
“So, we will just have to ignore it?” Charlie asked. “It is kind of hard when the voices are trying to block you all out…”
“This is going to be really hard.” Andre muttered.
Everyone took a deep breath and then just kept walking, ignoring whatever they heard. They knew you had to be somewhere. No matter how long it might take to reach the end of the stairs they would find you.
“Jacob.”
You were in one the big studies like the ones you used to see back in your home. The figure in the end of the room turned around and faced you. “It seems like you have finally found me, Y/N.”
“After all this time, I have finally found you.” You said seriously. “Have you been here all the time after you disappeared or did you just get here?”
“So many questions… Why don’t you first sit down?” He said, pointing at the couch. “I have a proposal for you.”
You blinked, but slowly sat down on the couch, looking at Jacob.
“Good girl. It seems like mother and father taught you some manners of the summers I wasn’t there. Look how straight your back is?” Jacob said with a smirk before he knelt in front of you. He grabbed one of your hands and looked into your eyes. “How do you feel about breaking the people who broke us?”
“Are you talking about getting revenge?” You asked.
“Yes, I am.” He said honestly. “After we have got our revenge we will show the world what we can do. Those who doubted us won’t stand a chance against use.”
You have been thinking about it a long time. Have your revenge on your parents and other family members. The people who were slowly turning you into the broken person you are today. You were nothing more than a doll. It was too late to stop it now. Jacob had manipulated you completely. You knew you would only listen to his commands and would probably not be able to resist him. You gave your brother the power over you.
“Y/N, don’t listen to him!”
You looked up a little when you heard Rowan saying you shouldn’t listen to him.
Jacob gritted his teeth and stood up, facing your friends. “Didn’t you learn it is rude to interrupt a conversation?” He said before he grabbed his wand. “Petrificus Totalus.”
Rowan was paralyzed and fell down on the ground.
“Someone else also want to be on the ground, like your little friend Rowan over here?” Jacob asked, tilting his head slightly. “Or do you perhaps prefer being stuck in the Cursed Ice?”
“Cursed Ice?” Penny said, remembering what happened in their second year.
“What do you expect, Penny Haywood? Once you encounter the Cursed Vaults, you might learn some tricks along the way.” Jacob said.
Ben looked terrified, also remembering how he got stuck in the Cursed Ice himself.
“And you must be Ben.” Jacob said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. My partner has used you for quite some errands here. For a Mudblood you certainly excel at Charms.”
“You were responsible for all of that?” Tulip asked surprised.
“In some extend, yes. But, I didn’t do everything on my own. I mentioned I have a partner. Unfortunately, he is not here at the moment.” Jacob said. “Tulip Karasu, right?”
“You know all of us?” Merula asked, wondering how he would know about that.
“I know all of you and your talents. My partner has told me a lot about you. I learnt even more about you by looking at my sister’s memories.”
“You have looking at your sister’s memories?” Tonks said in disbelief.
“To keep an eye on her and see the progress of my project.” Jacob said. “She needed to be broken in order to become my most loyal follower. I made sure she would slowly listen to the voices I created, making her believe she only has me.”
“That is just sick!” Penny hissed.
“I only did half of the work. The other half was already done by our parents.” Jacob said and then he patted your head. “Poor Y/N, physically and mentally abused to turn into the perfect daughter of the family. I have always admired the way she pretended she was doing fine, how she practice smiling in the mirror and lots of other things to hide it from you all.
You were completely unresponsive. It was like Jacob turned you off. You were waiting for him to wake you whenever he would need your help. You follow him and only him from now on. Whatever was left of you, was stuck somewhere deep in your mind.
“But don’t worry about Y/N. She will be in good hands now. With my help she will be on her way to greatness. I will teach her everything I have learnt from the Cursed Vaults. And maybe… Just maybe I will come back for a few of you later. You all show some potential and I think some of you would be a great addition to my team.” Jacob offered you a hand and you took it. Once you were standing up he looked at your friends. “This is a goodbye. I will probably see a few of you sooner or later.”
Before anyone could even respond to him, you were already gone.
It has been three years since your friends have seen you. You and Jacob haven’t been seen by anyone. The last thing they heard about the Y/L/N family was about the murder of your parents. They suspected Jacob was behind it. There was no prove though. Anyone could have done it according to the Aurors that have been investigating the case of your parents.
Merula was reading an article in the Daily Prophet about Sirius Black. At least it was better than reading anything that reminded her of you. She might not have been friends with you as long as the others, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t missing you. She knew you had much in common with her. In the end, she felt like she could relate to you in some extend.
Merula sighed and threw the Daily Prophet away. After all these years, she still couldn’t read anything Skeeter wrote about others. In her opinion it was just crap, making someone look bad in the process.
Merula blinked when she heard a door squeaking softly. She blinked. She could swear she closed all the doors in her apartment. She looked towards the direction of the sound. To her surprise, it was the front door that was making the sound. There was no way she left her front door open. Something was off.
She frowned and grabbed her wand when she slowly walked over to her front door. She opened the door completely, wondering if someone was standing outside her apartment. Of course, no one was there. Merula took a deep break and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“You are seeing ghosts, Merula…” She muttered to herself before she closed the door again. Maybe over the years she was the one who became mad in the end. Maybe that was her punishment for calling you that over the years. She had been blaming herself she didn’t see anything sooner. None of your friends did either, but after years of spying on you she felt like she would know when something was wrong with you. She turned around and her eyes widened.
You were standing in front of her with your wand in your hand. “Jacob told you he would see some of you sooner or later, remember?” You said with a smile before you used a spell on Merula.
Merula’s sight turned black and she had no clue what would happen next.
You were coming to pick up some of your old friends, that was for sure.
Tagged by @sherlockedcarmilla - I’m so glad we’re fic friends now!
This is going to be a little difficult because I haven’t written a ton of fic this year - I took a bit of an accidental hiatus, but jumped back into AO3 with both feet, desperate for more Sherlock. Anything Sherlock.
Total completed stories: Only three this year, but two unfinished.
Total word count: 32788
Fandoms written in: Sherlock
Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? More, actually. This year in fic writing sort of took me by surprise. I wrote a novel for a friend of mine (in proofing now) which took a ton of time and effort. But I found that when I was done with the novel, I was sort of on a roll and wanted to write some stuff that wouldn’t stress me out. Johnlock does this.
What’s your own favorite story of the year? I’m gonna say... Fallen Through Time. Not done yet, but I am thoroughly enjoying writing it and thinking my way through it.
Did you take any writing risks this year? I always feel like writing itself is a risk. Especially writing erotica because you have to swallow down the fact that now everyone knows what you know about sex and kinks and things that people don’t talk about. But, honestly, I love the feeling of strength and empowerment I get from writing and talking about things that people pretend are taboo, but are so eager to experience.
Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? My personal writing goals are pretty lofty: as soon as my novel from 2018 gets edited, I’m going to search for an agent and try to get it published. I’m also already working on a sequel, which I would like to finish by February for my friend’s birthday. Fanfic-wise, I plan on finishing Fallen Through Time as well as possibly going back to an old fic called The Love of a Child. And I have a few AUs in mind, including but not limited to Die Hard and The Greatest Showman.
Best story of the year? I’ll say Fallen Through Time again. I’m just proud of how it’s going so far.
Most popular story of the year? A tie between Fictober 2018 and Fallen Through Time at 984 hits in 2018. But since I finished The Adventure of the Swinging Hips a few days ago, it has climbed to a whopping 2,412!
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: The Adventure of the Swinging Hips. I actually had a bit of a comment battle (which has since been deleted) regarding whether or not I was remaining true to Sherlock and John’s voices. Obviously, I felt that I did, but I got some snark about Sherlock and John and who should be on top and what type of sex they’re having. All that being said, I feel like this story doesn’t get enough notes, but that’s probably because I had so much fun writing it.
Most fun story to write: Swinging Hips again. I listen to the playlist almost constantly and - while it is marked complete for now - I plan on eventually adding more chapters. Imagining Sherlock and John dancing about, loving each other in a myriad of little ways, expressing themselves through music... It just warms my heart.
Most unintentionally telling story: Probably Trimmed in Red. It’s angsty and was VERY hard to write, even though it’s pretty short. While I’ve never taken drugs (of any sort), trying to put myself in Sherlock’s mindset was emotionally difficult because of my own clinical depression and what I suspect might be ADHD. I struggle so much with my own memory and emotions - since there was a time in my life when I was so sad, it is easy to forget things because of the way I felt at the time. But I don’t want to forget moments in my life - they led me here.
Biggest disappointment: Ugh - I just could not finish the Fictober challenge on time. It’s STILL a wip! I will say that I am a bit of a masochist - most people treat each prompt as an opportunity for stand-alone ficlets, which is the sane decision. I, however, decided for some godforsaken reason to make each prompt the start of a chapter in a long-ass, full-blown fic. Now, in my defense, I was finishing a novel in October and treated Fictober as a bit of stress-relief. But I really like the direction in which the story is going and I am going to finish it, come Hell or high water.
Biggest surprise: Just & Loyal, a conversation between John and Sherlock regarding their respective Hogwarts House sorting. I finally started listening to the Three-Patch Podcast (AMAZING!) and in their first episode, their discussion about characters’ sorting was entertaining, but - as a hardcore Hufflepuff - I was disappointed that they decided emphatically that Sherlock would never be a Hufflepuff. We’re great! Don’t underestimate the Badger! Anyway - I cannot believe the number of notes this little ficlet got on Tumblr. It is so encouraging to see people liking and commenting. I love you guys!
I can hardly believe how much fun I’ve had after throwing myself into fanfic at the end of the year. It is so wonderful to be affirmed and supported, especially by people I’ve never met, and for what I consider My Work. I have a day-job, but writing is what drives me. What sustains me. Letting off steam while writing a novel or two and getting to be creative feels so great and the love and support I’ve been getting just gives me the boost of confidence I need.
Ok, tagging time. I’ll go with @cellard00rs and @nofate88, if you guys haven’t already done this. Love and kisses!
Don’t you love it when you mess up and delete your queue? I know I sure do
Zarya X Reader
One of the wheels was squeaky on your cart as you wheeled it down the aisle looking back and forth at the various fake ghouls and witches that littered the aisles, trying to find anything hat caught you eye. As you rounded the corner you heard a scream and jumped back as you saw a wolf like face lunge towards you. “After a second if catching you breath you lightly swatted against the nose of the rubber mask.
“Zarya!” You lightly chided your girlfriend as she lightly chuckled. Once the two of you calmed down she began putting the mask back on the shelf “wait, keep it out” you told her and she looked back at you and grinned before dropping he mask in the bag.
This was the first Halloween you and Zarya would be spending together and you wanted to go all out. She looked through the cart at the various things you had picked up. “What are you looking for?” She asked as you began to move once more and resumed your scanning on he aisles.
“A skeleton, but not the cheap bag of bones that’s right here, I’m looking for a full sized skeleton” you explained, having intricate plans for decorations already.
“So like that?” She asked pointing to the end of the aisle where a full skeleton laid against the shelf.
“Yes that’s perfect!” You said racing towards it. After getting that the two of you headed towards the register. And once all the items were paid for you went to grab a bag but Zarya stuck her arm out barring you from them. “Allow me” she picked up all the bags and began heading out, but not before looking back at you at winking. You huffed out a laugh “show off”
