#mousetrap (ship) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nethhiri · 10 months ago

Note

Kid and killer with someone who is a literal mouse/rat ? ate the mouse zoan fruit unknowingly thinking I’d be a cooler ability

I hope you don't mind if I turned this into a little drabble bc it inspired me. It was such a cute idea.

(Okay this got out of hand... I am incapable of telling a succinct story)

The Only Free Cheese Is in the Mousetrap

You had to admit, when you first ate the Mouse-Mouse fruit, you thought it was going to be something a little bit cooler. Mice were small and lame. No one would blink twice at a silly little mouse. As it turned out, that was your advantage.

You had been trying to hitch a ride through the Grand Line and you had been successful for the most part, hiding in the storage of random ships, eating whatever you could find. You didn't need much as an innocent little mouse. This ship, however, had no food in storage. There were only weapons and prisoners. If you got caught on this ship, the consequences would surely be dire.

The mistake was made when you decided to venture around the ship in search of food. You happened to find yourself in the workshop of the notorious K.I.D., Eustass 'Captain' Kid that is. Unfortunately you were a very unique, bright white mouse. It didn't leave you much in the way of camouflage, unless there was a bowl of flour somewhere. Even more unfortunate was that Kid was a very observant man and spotted you instantly.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A wee mouse?" Kid crouched in front of you.

You had been so sure he was going to crush you under his foot.

"Yer not even scared, eh?"

In truth, you were terrified, in the third, secret state of fight or flight: freeze.

"Wait here, mousey."

Kid returned to his bench, where there was a mostly empty plate, save for some crumbs. He collected them in his hands and returned to the interesting white mouse, sprinkling them on the floor.

"Here ya go."

He returned to his work, glancing up at you every so often to watch you nibble on the crumbs.

The next evening, you returned. He wasn't going to squish you and he even fed you. If he continued, you could just do this and survive until the next stop in port. You were pleasantly surprised to find that he had already set out some cubes of cheese.

"There ya go, mousey. I got the good stuff from Killer's stash."

That made your tiny mouse ears flick forward. So there's better food somewhere on the ship.

It turned out, you didn't have to search for it. Kid brought it to you. Over the next evenings, Kid left grapes, cheese, bread, bananas, and a bunch of other little tidbits. After about a week, there was a tiny metal table and chair set out with the food on top. You played along and sat in the chair for him, which mad him extremely happy. He moved it slightly closer to his bench every night until it was on the top of his desk. If someone had told you that you would be eating cubes of cheese, sitting on the desk of Eustass 'Captain' Kid, you would have laughed in their faces, but here you were doing just that.

This evolved even further until you were being carried around in a pocket on the inside of his coat. It was a little warm, but it offered protection. Every so often, he would sneak a crumb into the pocket for you.

"Boss, why are you feeding your coat?" Heat had been watching him put crumbs in his pocket over the course of dinner.

"No I'm not!" Kid said defensively, not answering the question correctly.

Killer reached out to pull open his coat, but Kid snatched it closer to him. Killer tugged on it harder.

"Stop it! Yer gonna hurt Mousey!"

"Mousey?" Killer let go of Kid's coat.

Kid hmphed.

"Kid."

Begrudgingly, Kid opened his coat.

"I don't see anything," Wire quipped.

Kid's face had a light dusting of pink. He whispered into his coat, "Come on out." Nothing happened. "It's okay."

You didn't expect to be revealed to anyone and you were reluctant to come out. Kid had kept you safe this far, though. You poked your snout out of the pocket and sniffed. There were quite a lot of people in the room. Your round, soft ears followed until your whole head was peering out of the pocket's edge. You were met with a chorus of adoring squeals from the girls and even some of the guys in the crew. Kid scratched between your ears, which you were ashamed to say, felt amazing and a squeak slipped out of your mouse mouth.

Heat covered his face. "So cute." Heat reached out to scratch your head.

"Don't ya touch my Mousey." Kid possessively closed his coat.

Heat's face got even sadder than it normally was.

"Just keep that thing out of my kitchen," Killer said. "They're full of germs."

Kid muttered down into the pocket. "Don't listen to him, Mousey. He's just jealous."

The next few days, since you weren't really a secret anymore, you spent sitting on Kid's shoulder. Killer had just as much disdain for you as he did initially, much to Kid's dismay. He really wanted his first mate to think you were as cool as Kid thought. Even the tiny leather jacket he made you didn't convince the blonde.

Kid fed you well, but you were still intrigued by this secret food stash that supposedly existed. There wasn't much entertainment as a mouse on a ship and you were getting bored. So at night, you had been searching the ship for this treasure. The kitchen was the most obvious, yet the scariest place to hunt. Certainly if there was hidden food, it would be there, however, Killer was extremely territorial and observant. It would be dangerous to search that particular area. Tonight was the night you would risk it.

It was easy enough to slip under the kitchen door. Finding the good treats was harder, but your well-equipped nose was able to sniff them out. The problem came when your tiny mouse hands were unable to figure out how to open the secret paneling that the food was hidden behind. You could turn into your human form, risky as it was. It would be nice to stretch it out. You had been a mouse for several weeks.

Taking your human form, you poked around the paneling until it revealed its contents. There was a variety of fancy or high quality specialty foods, including cheeses and preserved meats. You found a knife and cut small pieces from a few things you were interested in. Then you put everything back in its approximate original position. You climbed onto the counter and reverted back into a mouse, stuffing the tiny pieces of food you had curated into your cheeks.

The following day, as Killer went about his business, he noticed a set of bare footprints on the floor. There was a light dusting of flour from the day before when he made pasta from scratch. He hadn't noticed it before now. What was strange was that the footprints were only in one spot, like a person materialized and dematerialized there. It was also strange that someone who wasn't Kid was barefoot in the kitchen, and these footprints were about half the size of his. He somewhat brushed it off, that is, until he noticed the other footprints on the counter, the much tinier, much mousier footprints.

You had been spending most of your time in the walls of the ship, when you weren't being carried around in Kid's pocket. Today was no exception. You spent some of your time exploring listening in on others' conversations. Peering through the cracks of the wood, you decided to eavesdrop on Kid. Killer had come to talk to him and you were curious about what the captain and first-mate talked about. It was a good thing you did, since you were the subject matter.

"Kid, there's something up with your mouse."

His head snapped up from what he was doing. "What? Did something happen to them?"

"The 'mouse' is fine." Killer made air-quotes as he spoke.

"What do ya mean 'mouse'?" Kid copied his air-quotes.

"I mean I don't think it's just a mouse." Killer explained. "There are footprints in my kitchen that go from human to mouse." Killer wasn't stupid. He could put the pieces together.

"So ya think Mousey is a person?"

"I do."

"Prove it."

Shit. He was on to you. You didn't even notice the footprints you left behind. Should you even show up to eat? Or would it be more suspicious if you didn't? You ended up waiting until Kid left for the night before skittering out to grab your little crumbs and retreating into the wall.

You made yourself relatively scarce for the next few days, meaning you spent more time spying on the crew, for entertainment purposes only. One particular conversation caught your attention. You only caught portions of it, but it was clearly a mutinous theme. It ended shortly after you caught on to it, however, so you didn't get any details. Technically, it wasn't your problem. This wasn't your crew and you weren't planning on sticking around. It ate at you though. It felt wrong not to repay Kid for keeping you safe. Maybe you could return the favor.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary after that. Maybe they had given up on their plans. Until one evening in particular, someone new had delivered Kid's dinner to his workshop. He didn't always eat in there but he did more and more after he started feeding you. There was something off about the smell of the food. It wasn't right. Before Kid could eat any, you scrambled up to the table and bit his hand as he reached for the fork.

"Mousey! What the fuck?! That hurt." Kid bopped your head with a finger. "No biting."

As he reached for the fork again you knocked it onto the floor.

"Don't piss me off, Mouse."

He wasn't going to take the hint. He leaned over to pick up the fork, which is when you took the opportunity to push the plate onto the floor.

"FUCK!"

You knew he wasn't going to be happy, in spite of that, you couldn't watch him eat poisoned food. You tried to run away afterward, knowing this. However, you were slow compared to him and his powers quickly put a tiny metal cage around you.

"Ya act like this after all I've done for ya?! Bad mouse!" He picked up the miniature jail cell and gave it a shake, causing you to tumble around inside, with squeaks of discomfort.

Kid stomped off with you in tow and threw you to Killer once he found the first mate.

"Take this little shit to the brig."

Killer gave him a questioning look behind his mask. "You want me to put the mouse in a cell?"

"Well, I ain't gonna kill it. I'm not a monster."

Kid relayed all your crimes to the blonde. It was funny, how Killer felt a little bit bad for you, even though he had never shown you favor prior to that. You bounced with every step he took down to the brig.

"Oh, Mousey. You fucked up." Killer was to keep you here until they docked somewhere to let you go.

No, you fucked up. Neither of them were familiar with mouse physiology it seemed. The bars on your prison were way too far apart. As soon as Killer left, you squeezed out of the cage and made a beeline back to Kid's workshop.

It was vacant at the moment. You hurried to the desk and found a writing instrument. It was tough in your diminutive body, but you left a message for the captain:

YOU ARE IN DANGER.

You hoped he took it seriously. Then you scurried your furry body back to your cell before anyone noticed, not that they would.

Unfortunately, Kid thought it was a prank. You tried another note on his desk. You tried to leave him a note on his mirror in lipstick. At this point, Kid considered that there was a ghost on board. Clearly this method wasn't working. Once it became obvious, you started venturing out of the cage when you knew there wasn't anyone scheduled to come down there to feed or check on you. The next best thing to try was going back to spying and figuring out who exactly was involved.

Now, what you would do when you figured it out? That was decided for you. It wasn't what you intended. But what were you supposed to do? One of the men spotted you. And he backed you into a corner. And he was going to step on you. Your only choice was to transform. And when he pulled a knife? Well, of course you had to disarm him. And now that he had seen you and knew you heard his plot, you couldn't just leave a loose end like that. So you had no choice but to cut his throat. You left the knife in his hand. Not very believable but there were footsteps in the hall and you had to get out of there.

Not long after that, Killer came down to your cell and squatted down, lifting your prison until you were eye level.

"I know it was you."

You licked your paw and groomed your ear, very cutely, you might add.

"You can't fool me. You really need to learn to cover your tracks."

You scratched the back of your other ear with your hind leg.

Killer let out a frustrated growl and dropped your cage. He stomped out of the brig.

How is he so observant! You really should have remembered about the tracks, especially since that's how he noticed the first time. Now what? Either their plan would be foiled by losing a member or they would escalate, thinking they had been found out. You knew there were others, and you had to find out who they were, and quickly.

Your investigative antics became riskier. You went into cabins and dug through drawers. You followed people around using the walls. You were getting closer. Until one day, you found two more people chatting. They were definitely up to no good. The more you listened the more alarmed you were. They were going to make an attempt on Kid's life again tomorrow.

There was no way you could take them both on. The only reason you won against the other guy was because you took him by surprise. You couldn't send a message to Kid either. That hadn't worked. If you tried to tell him as a human, he wouldn't trust that. The only person that knew your secret, or at least was fairly confident in his assumptions, was Killer. Maybe you could risk telling him. Maybe he would believe you. It was doubtful.

When you scampered back to your cage, you came to an abrupt stop. Killer was there waiting for you. You gulped. You were frozen. You were caught.

"Where have you been, mouse?"

The jig was most certainly up. He snatched you in his fist faster than you thought possible. You squeaked, trying to gain a little sympathy as a cute creature. Maybe it would make him believe you were a regular mouse. Then you bit him. He didn't even flinch. He was smart. He was trying to force you to reveal yourself, squeezing you gradually tighter and tighter.

You were forced into your human form to avoid being crushed, even then, his grip on your throat was immovable. You could sense his smugness in being right. He wasn't even surprised. You were grateful that however this fruit worked, you got to keep your clothes on when you transformed.

"Stop! Please!" You scratched at his hands.

Killer slammed you against the wall. "You killed one of my crew! You're going to pay for it."

"M-mu-tiny," you rasped out. The edges of your vision were going black.

Killer loosened his grip. "What did you say?"

"There's gonna be a mutiny."

Killer pushed you against the wall harder. "So you're a murderer and you've turned our own crew against us?"

"N-no. Please. L-et me go." You gasped for air. "I'll ex-plain."

Killer was decent enough to hear you out, and was shocked by the accusations. You couldn't help him further though. You hadn't heard their names and the way you described them was vague. It left Killer in a tough place. He didn't trust you, yet if you were telling the truth and his captain was in danger, he had to.

"I-I have an idea."

Killer didn't like your idea. Yet, it was better than anything he could think of, so he went along with it. And that was how you found yourself sitting on the inside of the Massacre Soldier's helmet, hanging onto his hair the next day. You could see out of the eyeholes better than you expected. Killer was strategically staring at each individual member and you were to whisper in his ear when you saw the people who were plotting.

As you spotted them, you hurriedly signaled to Killer that they were the culprits. As they had no proof, Killer was simply going to talk to them. But, as one does when being approached by a brick house of a man like Massacre Soldier, they got scared. This was not their plan, but they were so nervous, especially after one of them was killed, that they thought they had been found out. They both jumped Killer, and in the process of him defending himself, you slipped out of his mask and fell onto the deck.

You shook it off and your eyes searched for Kid, who was so distracted by the seemingly random scuffle, that he wasn't watching his own back, where a third, unexpected assailant was waiting. You ran as fast as your short legs would carry you. He spotted you instantly.

"Mousey? How'd you-"

Kid was taken aback by watching you run straight through his legs, and as he turned, seeing you transmute your form into that of a human. A human who was wrestling a gun out of someone's hand. Someone who was obviously trying to point said gun at him.

Regrettably, Kid was just a touch too shocked to react in time. His devil fruit activated to take the gun, but only after a shot was fired. He felt nothing. You, on the other hand, dropped to your knees and doubled over, clutching your midsection.

Was this how you imagined yourself being celestially discharged from this life? No. Did you have regrets? Probably. But saving Eustass Kid wasn't one of them. After all, what other mouse could say they saved a notorious pirate captain? Maybe your devil fruit wasn't that lame in the end.

______________________________________________________________

Kid thought about you a lot. They didn't have a trained doctor on board. They had to leave you at an island that had, thankfully, been in close range for you to be treated. He shouldn't be sad; his plan was to drop you off at the next island. Still, it felt wrong not to say goodbye or at least thank you.

Killer was grateful to you for saving his captain, even after being 'imprisoned' and roughed up by them. Even though you owed them no loyalty, you were more loyal than crewmates they had on board for months.

Several weeks passed. Kid happened to look up to see the NewsCoo delivery bird. The bird landed with a newspaper, some new wanted posters, and a small package. Curious, Kid picked it up and shook it next to his ear. Weird, what kind of gift made squeaks. Kid tore it open to find a dazed, white mouse.

"Oh fuck! Mousey! Sorry!"

You stumbled around in his hand, dizzy.

He hugged his hand to his chest and gave you a giant kiss on the head, staining your white fur red. In his excitement, he forgot you were a person. Upon remembering, he had a pink dusting to his cheeks and set you down.

You transformed into a human in front of him.

"Why did ya come in the mail?!"

"Cheaper fare than a boat," you grinned.

Kid all but threw you over his shoulder. "Killer! Look what we got in the mail!"

Killer stifled a laugh as he noticed a big red imprint of lips on your forehead. Kid went just as red as the mark when he noticed that it transferred to your human appearance. And neither one of those assholes told you it was there either.

Kid dropped the "y" from the end of your name from then on, but slipped up on occasion, still referring to you as Mousey. He still asked you to join him for dinner sometimes, too, as a person though, not a mouse; he didn't give you crumbs either. He liked your company.

Killer was impressed by your knowledge of cheeses and asked you to come shopping with him on islands for provisions. You also had a knack for picking the ripest fruits. He usually asked you to personally deliver Kid's meals, you know, to avoid another poisoning.

And some would even go as far as to say they saw a white critter scurrying under Kid or Killer's doors in the late hours of the night or scurrying out early in the morning.

#nethoughts #one piece #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #x reader #drabble #one shot #kid pirates #dedicated to my beloved D&D mouse companion: Captain Muenster

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abyssalzones · 2 days ago

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at this point idgaf because I have other stuff going on and it's better for my mental health to not gaf but I'll always be so confused why [particular ship involving a triangle] fans still follow me in large numbers when I'm a huge obnoxious hater of it. like I definitely don't suit the vibe of people who tend to go hard for that kind of thing seeing as I don't like hazbin hotel and I know how to read so like what's the appeal. are you guys just kind of skimming my posts... are the mousetraps not working... can you send an ambassador to clear up the confusion or something

#lab notes #it's been a hot minute since I've been annoying let's change that #btw I just made bacon for blts again lfg

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sparklearchive · 2 months ago

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All official ship names (as far as I know)

Barry + Uni - Barruni/Factfiction

Caroline + Uni - Carruni/Paint Pens

Polly + Barry - Pollarry/Northern Lights

Uni + Polly - Polluni/Kissmas Story

Doom + Barry - Doomry/Lab Rat

Polly + Doom - Doolly/Winter Night

Polly + Barry + Doom + Uni - Pollarydoomi

Caroline + Doom - Carroom/Mousetrap

Pinata + Funfetti - Pinfetti

Puppy + Funfetti - Pupfetti

Kills + Shortnick - Shortkills

Caroline + Hemera (Queerplatonic) - Camera (pronounced ka-me-ra)

Cyn + Mel + Chip - Blueflame

Miley + Doom - Miloom

Bearry + Uni - Bearruni

Barry + Jay - Jarry

Jay + Uni - Jayni

Hemera + Barry (Queerplatonic) - Bamera

Caroline + Jandy - Jandyline/Carolandy/Candy

Hemera + Plants (objectum) - Hemerant

Mood + Rem - Moodies/Remood/Bat Rat

Doom + Uni - Doomi/Dark Magic

Doom + Uni + Caroline - Carroomi/My Comical Romance

Howie + Ally - Howial/Nyan Cog

Sly + Carl - Slycarl/Carly

Stroke + Ken - Stroken

Soob + Pinch - Magicomed

Winona + Moore - Winmore

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remembrancer-of-heresy · 11 months ago

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The Eternal Night (Part 1)

Summary: You ask for protection from the Night Lord in the hope of being saved from other space marines. Not realizing that you yourself walked into a mousetrap.

Jago Sevatarion/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, power imbalance, violence, body horror, torture, predator/prey

Word count: 2560

Song: She Wants Revenge - Out Of Control

But then she noticed me glance at her I had no choice but to dance with her

The funny thing is that mothiir just recently released headcanons about the first captain. Today is Sevatar's day.

The very thought of serving on a Night Lords ship was terrifying. Many remembrancers chose Fulgrim or Horus Lupercal. Some ventured to the Conqueror. But as your lady noted, only the bravest and courageous are ready to board the Nightfall.

Stupid and naive, you wanted to tell her. But your mistress was too self-confident, too spoiled to listen to anyone. She justified her reckless action by arguing that the Night Lords were still Astartes, the Space Marines of the Imperium. And you…

What are you? You were her personal maid. You weren't supposed to have an opinion. You kind of missed freedom. But is it better to be a healthy serf than a hungry child? You are already lucky that her kind family took you into their home.

But while cleaning the mistress’s room on Nightfall, you want to return to the depths of poverty. It was dark here. Cold. And scary. No matter how much you smelled the chlorine or your lady's perfume, you couldn't get rid of the smell of blood. It seemed to be absorbed into the ship.

You behaved as quiet as a mouse. Didn’t interfere, didn’t talk too much. Made friends with a couple of serfs without distracting them from their work. Tried not to tremble in the presence of the Astartes passing by. The main thing is to continue to remain invisible. Hide in the darkness and it doesn’t matter what these lords rule the night.

The lady was an easy prey. She just asked to be gutted. You shouldn't think that way, but it was true. The way her knees shook and she sweated out of fear. Although it was difficult not to do so when even in the quietest corners of the ship distant cries of pain could be heard.

“I'm so scared. They look like that, as if a little longer and they will twist my head.” - the lady once complained to you before going to bed.

“You shouldn’t be afraid. This won't happen." - you calmly notice. The girl’s calm face, full of hope, changes to horror and disgust as soon as you continue your thought. - “First they will skin you alive.”

Compared to her, you seemed so gloomy and strange. Weird. The other servants jokingly called you lady crow. Although you didn't understand the humor. Nightfall looked more like a burial ground. How could you want to stay here for even one minute if you are not a scavenger? Besides, you are not a bird, you are a human.

And despite this, your mistress tried to gain respect among mortals who had seen the real horrors of war. And her desperate attempts to personally meet Konrad Curze are akin to a desire to quickly depart to the afterworld.

And she achieved her goal. Even more. The primarch himself decided to visit the chambers of the restless scribe. Either out of idle curiosity or out of a desire to calm down the annoying woman. Just the knock on the door sent a shiver down your spine, and his massive black figure in the doorway sent a terrible feeling of foreboding.

Konrad Curze, in his grim elegance, entered the chamber and greeted the woman. And then he looked at you. Long and drawn out, cold and concentrated. His black eyes probed every piece of your flesh and soul. And then he smiled.

The lips stretched to the ears, revealing clawed teeth. But the worst thing was when he laughed a nasty laugh. The kind that makes your bones crack. He continued to look at you and laugh, putting the lady in a stupor. And scaring you terribly. A gloomy foreboding clouded the little mortal heart, and the words only nailed you more firmly to the floor.

“How interesting~” - the primarch grinned carnivorously while saliva collected in the corners of his mouth. - “The little mouse will offer itself to the crow. And he will only be glad. What's worse? To be eaten by scoundrels or to be protected by a monster?”

He bursts out laughing again, this time quiet. He sighs, disgustingly satisfied. Until he finally pays attention to your mistress. And something in his face changes. You can’t explain it, but it’s as if doom and anticipatory bloodthirstiness have merged into one. As if Konrad Curze saw something terrible. And he liked it.

“Perhaps we should discuss everything in private,” his voice softly envelops you like night. It is impossible to explain how a man turned from madman to primarch. Although no one knows whether the Emperor's son can go mad.

Your mistress nods and with a wave of her hand kicks you out of the chambers. You quickly leave the room, closing the door behind you. The primal desire to hide increased a hundredfold. You rush to one of your secluded places, which you discovered by accident. For the first time in your life, not watching the road and not hiding too much from prying eyes.

You should never give in to fear. You must always be on your guard. A momentary weakness can and does lighten the soul. But you will definitely have to pay later. And you understand this as soon as you hit your forehead on something iron at a turn.

A characteristic sound is heard and you whine and grab your forehead. There will be a bump and most likely a huge one. But the pain just vanishes when you understand where it came from. And especially when you hear an unpleasant chuckle.

He looked intimidating. Outstretched wings of a gargoyle and a skull on a huge armor not intended for an ordinary mortal. The characteristic appearance of the Nostraman did not frighten you. As well as the scars on the eyebrow and lip.

But his smile was scary. How his black eyes filled with sparkle, and the corners of his lips twitched strangely. It’s as if someone is touching the threads sewn into the skin of a corpse, imitating human living emotions. All the sons of Curze were terrifying, their “smiles” were more like the grin of animals. But this one was different.

“Careful, little one. If you had met one of my brothers, you would already be hanging on a hook” - his eyes sparkled with mischief, but nothing more. - “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

You swallowed. Didn’t want to answer, but silence could only provoke.

“My lady is speaking with Konrad Curze.” - the unpleasant meeting still echoed in your brain. It became more uncomfortable. - “I was told not to interfere.”

“Oh, that annoying scribe still managed to snag a meeting with the primarch. Your mistress talks too much and goes where she shouldn't. These usually end up with their guts out.” The man smirked and looked at you. Attentively. Like a carcass ready for slaughter. - “And where are you going?”

That's why you didn't want to get caught by the Night Lords. They played with mortals as if they were food. Important people for the Legion were still protected, but the serfs were meat. One is gone, it’s easy to replace it with a second one. The only thing that saved you was to be the remembrancer’s serf, her personal maid. Although judging by the attitude of the Space Marines towards her, this could only egg them on.

“To the compartment” - you don’t want to say where you’re going, but there’s no choice. In addition, it is unlikely that the Astartes will specify the exact location of your secret home. - “Into the trash compartment.”

A strange range of surprise spreads across the man’s face. Not disgust, but misunderstanding.

“Why the hell did you decide to go there?”

“There are a lot of rats there. They are my friends” - you almost calmed down as soon as you remembered the familiar sounds coming from under the garbage. You almost whisper a confession. - “They calm me down with their rustling.”

It was true. They listened to your stories, entertained you with fights between each other. They were soft and fluffy, although dirty. They were not evil from birth, they simply survived as best they could in such a place. And alas, the rats were much better than some of the people here.

The man just chuckled at these words. Did it seem to you or did a strange understanding flash in his eyes? And curiosity.

“Well then go.”

Not believing your luck, you open your mouth in amazement and blink your eyes. But you obey. While he gives you a head start, you need to run. There is no need to waste your luck. Especially when the one who could easily break you and not notice, lets you go while the going's good.

“And since they calm you down, mouse,” you turn around sharply and notice the same terrifying smile. But this time it's not scared. Something in a man changes when he calls out to you. - “It’s worth thanking them. Bring them meat... and fresh is best.”

Good advice. Maybe you're already used to Nightfall or this Night Lord seems less terrible. Or maybe you should really bring your little friends a well-deserved reward. You'll try to find something fresh and something... not made from human flesh.

You nod and quickly, trying not to attract attention, walk further down the corridor. You wish you could say that you didn’t feel the Space Marine’s gaze on you. But you felt it even when your figure disappeared from his gaze. Dead, mischievous, carnivorous. It was as if he had just found an interesting prey, but decided to let it go.

For a while.

***

You started to notice him. Previously all Space Marines looked alike. You just didn't look closely. Why the hell do you need this if they will torture you almost equally. But he wasn't like that. Or rather, a little more... humane? Kind? No, those are suitable. Wrong. Yes, that's much better.

First captain. Jago Sevatarion. You learned the name and title from one of the local serfs. You immediately became friends with him when you saw him. He was old. That's why you called him grandpa. He lasted a long time. Good sign.

Grandpa said that you were very lucky that the captain didn’t touch you. He did not participate in the local amusements so often, talking more with the primarch. Or keeping an eye on other Space Marines and a Atramentar. But still he was just as sadistic as the others. He killed, dismembered, skinned with grim pleasure. You couldn’t help but notice that he was the most feared of all. Unpleasant vibrations emanated from him.

It seemed like you were scared too. But it seems not. Alas, just as you were strange in childhood, you remains so. Although the local inhabitants even liked it. As if you almost one of them, unlike the other servants of the scribe. But you really couldn’t understand why no one noticed.

His weirdness. How he communicates with a couple of mortals. The same ones. You were sure he was keeping an eye on them. He made sure nothing bad happened to them. And he didn't touch you either. It is unlikely that your “status” would in any way prevent Sevatarion from quenching his thirst for murder. And he didn't laugh at your friendship with rats. Didn't find it disgusting or weird. It was nice gesture.

He also began to notice you. On distance. Didn't come up to you, didn't call you. No need. It’s just that now he knew what kind of new person was running around here. The Astartes began to notice you in the shadows, as you headed towards the rats or the local serfs. You didn’t see, but you were almost sure that at such moments he smiled unpleasantly.

Although probably all the Space Marines smiled when Curze called your mistress a traitor. He said that she decided to steal something and violated the Imperial Truth. You still couldn’t understand the words of the old serf who caught you in the corridor.

Rave. Your mistress was spoiled and annoying, but she would never betray the Imperium. She wouldn't even have such a thought. Is this a mistake or some kind of joke? The primarch could not blame her for something she had not done. Did he really decide to come up with justice just to send her to her death? She was kind. She didn't deserve it.

But a judgment is a judgment. Grandpa wasn't making fun of you. Now you and the other servants belonged to the Legion. But given the way this happened, you are unlikely to stay here for long. Alive.

With a feeling of guilt and tears in your eyes, you look at her mutilated corpse, nailed to one of the gates. They removed the skin from her, and then they squeezed out the body so that all the bones were broken, and most of the blood flowed away. Now her eyeless body, folded like a rag, looked at you accusingly.

Once you said that they would skin her, don't you?

Footsteps are heard behind you. Not lurking, but quiet. If you can say so, taking into account the armor of the Space Marines. You turn around and see Jago Sevatarion behind. The captain looks...tired. It was like he hadn't slept for days or weeks. A little bored. But quite happy with his work.

Apparently he also took part in the verdict.

“Your screaming scribe got into trouble herself, little mouse. You shouldn't mourn her when your life hangs by a thread. You will serve the Legion well and we will not touch you. Maybe." - the man falls silent and looks at you carefully. - “Or are you so used to being a personal servant?”

Maybe. If this world were a little kinder, you would even call your mistress a friend. But the Galaxy is full of horrors, and your patroness has turned into a leather rag. And you will be the same if you get caught. Or if you are not protected...

Grandpa said he was lucky. He had a tattoo. The ink mixed with the blood of the Space Marine he served. And no one touched him. Nobody offended him. Because he was not a “free” serf. He was no one's toy on the road. He had his own tormentor. But it's better than the unknown. Isn't it?

The First Captain raised an eyebrow. Apparently a little hope slipped across your sad face. It’s alarming to ask, scary to beg. But what choice do you have? Sooner or later you will be found and gutted. So you have to take risks.

“Take me to you,” you almost devour the man with your eyes, trying not to cower in fear. - “I will serve you. I'll be obedient. Will not interfere. I'm very quiet. Please."

You didn’t know why you mentioned that you are quiet. It came out on its own. The Night Lords rather like screaming, begging, and crying. The louder the better. But before your eyes was the tired appearance of the first captain. Even now he didn't look his best. Although something lights up in his eyes. For a moment, the walking corpse looks almost alive. A terrible sight.

“Call me Sevatar.” - the voice is surprisingly soft and relaxed. You look at him in disbelief. The man just grins at your funny look.

"This means?"

"Yes."

#warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #yandere space marine #night lord x reader #jago sevatarion x reader #sevatar x reader #tw: yandere #tw: violence #tw: body horror #tw torture

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diamond-rozie · 1 year ago

Text

short 3: operation mousetrap

table of contents ao3

Nightwing’s eyes glazed over the case file he had already memorized as they made their way to the scene of their mission. Superboy fidgeted in the seat next to him, untempered. It had taken Nightwing and Robin (mostly Nightwing), and M’gaan almost the whole pre-mission briefing to convince Superboy to not just fly there, and actually take the bio-ship with them. He could empathize though. When Young Justice had first formed unofficially on their unsanctioned mission to CADMUS to, eventually, break Superboy out of his cloning pod the Justice League along with the bandit of misfits the Young Justice team was at the time had done everything they could and expended every resource to track and shut down anymore similar projects. Unfortunately and fortunately, Konner had been the only one to be stable enough to survive outside of the cloning pod, and since CADMUS had been permanently shut down there would be no more cloning projects (from them at least).

Or so they thought.

A mission that the Teen Titans were on almost a month ago had given them a tip off that there were still more CADMUS research operations happening. According to the files and research they had gathered, which, granted, wasn't as much as they would've liked, it seemed like there was something about this specific branch that had been different than the ones they had been tracking down after finding Konner. That had been the explanation to why they were only finding out about them now, years after they had thought they’d seen the last of them. Batman wasn't happy to be blindsided like that. And neither were they. Konner, naturally, had taken it the worst. Practically begged to be on the mission even though it’s not his usual modus operandi. Nightwing suspected that he felt some kind of responsibility to see it through, which as illogical as it may be, he understood where Konner was coming from.

So here they were, Nightwing (Since Batman couldn't oversee it himself), Superboy (As previously stated), Robin (Teen Titan representative of choice) and Miss Martian headed towards the new CADMUS location in an intense silence. The mission was sanctioned as a recon mission, the objective was to not to be seen so they could bug their systems and find out just how much of CADMUS they had overlooked. Hence the two bats and a martian that could go intangible. Cyborg was on standby at the Watchtower in case his expertise was required, Robin could put him through. CADMUS dabbled in a lot more than just clones, so the team was surely in for a surprise.

Nightwing was confident it was nothing they couldn’t handle.

They kept in the shadows, Miss Martian connecting them telepathically as they split up. She headed off with Robin to the main control room, Nightwing stuck with Superboy as they got eyes on whatever was afoot here. Superboy easily fell into Nightwing’s lead, leaving minimal traces of their presence.

‘We’re clear.’ Robin informed them that he and Miss Martian had successfully reached the control room, ‘I’m tapping into the mainframe; downloading and in process.’

‘Were you seen?’ Nightwing asked back, hotwiring the security panel for one of the doors marked Authorized Access Only (that translates to “you should probably check this out” in vigilante speak).

‘Negative.’ Miss Martian echoed back.

‘It tell you what we're up for?’ Superboy asked, as the door silently opened. Nightwing stopped him from entering so he could scan the area for laser, boobie (heh) traps and other such sensors. All clear.

‘Systems scanning. Will update. Over.’ Robin said curtly, likely busy getting past the security without ringing any alarms.

‘Heading into an access point. Still clear. Over.’ Nightwing reported, as their communication line went quiet but the light buzz the connection gave still echoed in his scalp.

The lack of guards was concerning to say the least. The building wasn’t abandoned, there were still people going about. But they had all been in lab coats doing things that people that wore lab coats in shady underground operations did, not security going around securing the place. Even the access point hadn’t had any sensors that hotwiring couldn’t dismantle. Nightwing knew enough about CADMAS operations to know that this wasn’t how CADMUS operated. Knowing better than to hope for the best he told Superboy to keep his guard up, trusting Robin to come to the same conclusion as him.

They surveyed the access point. They had managed to get pretty deep into the building so there was sure to be something juicy in here. Weapons of mass destruction, an unnamed virus that could kill on impact, neo-Armegedon. All in previous case files stored under CADMUS along with superhero cloning. Nightwing was relatively certain he wouldn’t be finding any more cloning attempts, which had been the core of what they had been searching for during the first CADMUS eradication operations. Looked into all the big pharmas connects and everything. Crazy how far a name like “Wayne” could take you.

So imagine Nightwing’s surprise when Superboy calls him over while he’s snooping through the on hand files in the large room to see what all the freaky green bio-substance in the rows and rows of mason jars were supposed to be for and he sees an all to familiar pod. A pod that might even be referred to as a cloning pod. There was a kid inside, male, estimated age 7-10. It was always hard to tell ages with clones. Skin tone was hard to tell in the green of the liquid he was basking in, but it looked tan - melatonin tan, kid probably never got a lick of Vitamin D in his life. His hair was white in some parts and black in others, kinda like a zebra. Or was dalmatian a better reference? His umbilical cord was still attached- or something that served as one, if he were to guess. Nightwing couldn’t see where it led to as it disappeared into the ceiling.

“We gotta get him out.” Superboy said through clenched teeth. Nightwing couldn’t imagine the memories going through his head. His hand went for the control panel before Nightwing stopped him.

Superboy looked like he wanted to put up a fight so Nightwing was quick to explain, “We don’t know if he’s stable enough to not be in there. If you open it, or wake him or whatever- you could kill him. You need to think about this objectively, Superboy.” The anger didn’t dissipate but Nightwing trusted the nod of understanding he received and released his arm. “Clones don’t usually have an umbilical cord.” Nightwing noted, “They must’ve tried a new recipe.” Tuning back into Miss Martian's mental link, ‘Rob. You find anything yet?’

‘The information’s coded, Cyborg and I are working on it. But all I’ve found so far is not looking good.’ There was a beat of silence, and Nightwing’s chest twisted in anticipation. ‘They have a project Grayson.’

‘What?’ Nightwing ‘Are you sure it’s not just a coincidence.’ Superboy’s eyes snapped to Nightwing who turned to look at the boy in the cloning tube and wondered if his eyes would be blue when (if) he opened them. The memory of his own parents telling him the trails of his birth flashed in his head. His mother couldn’t conceive, so they’d found a doctor to help. He’d been a test-tube baby. At Least until he was old enough to be in a womb. He knew how it worked. And he knew that both his parents had to get harvested for it. Considering who they were dealing with, it wasn’t impossible their samples weren’t stolen.

‘Codename: P40-N10; Attempt 16: Project Grayson.’ Robin recited ‘That’s all I got so far.’

‘Robin, we're getting company.’ Miss Martian's voice said, alarmed.

With a curse Robin ended the conversation. If they found Red Robin and Miss Martian then it wouldn’t be long until guards came by their alley either. Quickly Nightwing tapped the computer screen that most likely connected to the kid’s suspension chamber. Superboy made himself useful looking through the paper trail stored in the shelves, since he could read faster than the average human. Robin was right about the coded information, trying to bypass whatever software they were using a pinprick he hadn’t been expecting poked through Nightwing’s glove drawing only a drop of blood.

That can’t be good.

The computer screen shifted to the loading sign, force-freezing any other on going processing for whatever just popped up. Instinctively, Nightwing backed up from the screen, bracing for some kind of explosion or attack to come from somewhere. But the screen finished loading and a present icon popped up, deceptively colorful. Despite not touching the mouse, the cursor moved to the icon with an exaggerated click and the present opened with a light fanfare of digital confetti.

Operation MouseTrap: Activated.

Nightwing didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. Before he could process what course of action he should take- optimally a self-extraction, they’d been sniffed- the glass dome encasing the kid retracts with a loud sound and the substance is drained only just fast enough to not spill over the glass.

They had been expecting them.

MouseTrap. They were mice.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

‘Rob, MM. We need to leave. Now.’ Nightwing ordered urgently. Superboy was on his feet, catching the kid from hitting the floor with a speed Nightwing couldn’t match.

“I got him. We need to cut the wire.” Superboy said, checking the boy for a pulse. Approaching them quickly, Nightwing sliced through the umbilical cord with a batarang.

‘What’s the situation?’ Robin asked,

‘We’ve got them handled on our end.’ Miss Martian reported.

‘We’ve been set-up. I’ll explain later. We need to go.’ Nightwing snapped, just as the overhead alarms started blaring. He should’ve seen this coming a mile away.

Superboy picked the boy up. “Pulse is there, but barley. He needs medical attention, fast.” He used his jacket to cover the boy, holding him to his chest as he made his way to the door they had come in from.

“It’s too risky to take him with us. They wanted us to find him, there had to have been a reason.” Nightwing stepped in his path, staying aware of potentially being approached from behind. The containers he had been looking into earlier were forgotten in their corner of the room.

“So what?” Superboy asked venomously, “We leave him here? ‘Cause he's dangerous?” A took a threatening step closer, “A threat?” Cloning projects were always a sensitive topic for all the Supers, Konner specifically. Reasons obvious.

Nightwing sighed, “No.” He looked at the child and he couldn’t help but notice the similarities. Both with himself(phenotypically) and with Konner(in every other way). “No, we can’t leave him here. But we can’t go into this headfirst.” There was a volley of footsteps approaching.

‘Nightwing. Superboy. ETA?’ Robin asked through the link.

“We could take him to Mt. Justice?” Superboy tried to offer. “Titan’s Tower?”

“Mt. Justice is a secure location, we shouldn’t risk them being able to track the kid. We’d be risking everyone that stays there.” Nightwing explained, he could hear footsteps approaching. There was a crowd of them. “And the tower wouldn’t have the proper equipment to monitor or take care of him, medically.” The option of the Bat Cave filtered through Nightwing's mind, but he didn’t offer.

‘Guys.’ Miss Martian, called. ‘Do you copy?’

“Watchtower’s the safest bet, then.” Superboy pressed, “It’s crawling with heroes. Batman will be there. And Superman. What’s the worst one kid can do?” A lot. But Konner wouldn’t take that answer. Nightwing caught the kid’s hand twitch from under Superboy’s leather jacket.

‘Nightwing. Superboy.’ Robin called again, urgency in his tone. ‘Do you copy?’

“Why can’t our recons never actually be recons?” Nightwing sighed dramatically reaching for his batons as the door opened to reveal a folly of security guards. If they were meant to get in and get the kid, then they would sure as hell leave with him. Batman’s lecture be damned.

‘A few friends dropped by. We’ll catch you in five.’ Nightwing finally responded, ‘Get the medkits ready, we have a stowaway.’

Superboy let out a breath and his shoulder’s visibly relaxed, as he pulled the kid closer in his arms. He looked tiny next to Superboy's wide shoulders. Even if he was 7 he was small for it. Nightwing didn’t have much time to take in the kid, locked into a fight he could’ve taken in his formative Robin days, with a Super as back up. The two hurried down the corridor they had entered from, not bothering to take to the shadows when the loud red buzzer and alarms had exposed them. With Superboy’s enhanced strength the boy in his hands barely caused a dent in their escape plans. Though he was so small and skinny, Nightwing was confident their roles could’ve been reversed with minimal disadvantage.

The bioship took off the second the two landed both feet on board. Robin took one look at the heap of a child in Superboy’s arms and domino shifted in what Nightwing knew to be a questioning eyebrow.

“Heading back to Mt. Justice.” M'gann said as they steadied in the sky.

“Drop us off at the Watchtower on your way.” Dick called, following behind Konner to where Tim had set up their makeshift Medbay.

“B’s gonna flip.” Tim said approaching the stretcher the ship formed for them, as Konner laid the kid down gingerly. Dick shrugged, watching the monitors Tim hooked the kid up to. They were low, but they were steady. “He looks like you.” Tim commented again, stepping back to examine his work.

His hair had strips of white in that Dick never had the displeasure of dealing with, but Dick had never been in a cloning pod and he couldn’t be sure if the white hair was a genetic thing or a side effect of whatever the green stuff was. He should’ve gotten a sample of the vials when he had a chance. Have something to show for himself at the lecture he was no doubtably going to have to sit through with B. His skin wasn’t as tan as Dick’s but Dick spent excess hours in the sun and the kid got his umbilical cord cut only minutes ago. He had a dust of freckles, like Dick did. His nose bridge had a crick in it like Dick’s mom’s in the pictures, but Dick’s nose didn’t have one. His jaw was slim and angled like Dick’s had been before he hit puberty, and his skin was clear of any of the acne Dick had fought hard and long in his middle-teens. His shoulder’s didn’t have the muscles Dick had been trained into since before he could remember, making his entire body slimmer and smaller than Dick’s had been at that age.

It was like looking into a funhouse mirror of himself.

---

“Nightwing.” Batman called in a tone that Dick had become, unfortunately, very used to over the years. “Explain.”

“We were reconn-ing, like planned. Found the kid, alarms went off. It was no longer a recon.” He slumped into the empty chair with the Big Blue’s emblem etched into the leather of it. A bored look on his face to hopefully deter the length of the incoming lecture.

“You were team leader and as team leader you should know better than to not notice things. Clues that aren’t there are tells as much as clues that are there, and you led your team-” The lecture was cut off by a color-clad man Nightwing hadn’t had the pleasure of knowing the name of, his hurried eyes filtering between the duo and landing pointedly on Nightwing, hesitant to say anything in the presence of The Almighty Batman. But Nightwing knew. There was only one reason anyone would be looking for him right now.

“The kid’s-”

“Awake. Yeah, I got it.” Nightwing said pushing past him and hurrying in the direction of the Medbay Konner had refused to leave. Batman was on his tail, never one to leave a child vulnerable or unattended, regardless of the potential threat levels. Or maybe it was because he was a threat.

Nightwing entered before Batman, but he could feel him falter at the sight of the kid that sat in the bed with a posture Alfred had taken years to instill in Dick. His hair was still a patchwork of black and white, Dick wondered if he was wrong to think there was more white than there had been before. But as he stepped through the door, large blue eyes locked with Dick’s own. His Father had blue eyes. And his mother had a hooked nose. He’d seen the pictures. He’s memorized them. The slim jaw, the large eyes, and the lush lips. He looked like Dick, but not identical.

“He just woke up.” Konner told Dick quietly, but still loud enough for the kid to hear. Dick took off his domino, Batman left his on. The only people in the room were the three of them, the kid, and the doctor who was looking after him. The kid eyed them all wearily nonetheless.

“Hi,” Dick started with a smile, making sure to keep his hands in view and move them slowly, “I’m Richard Grayson, most people call me Dick.” He wondered if the joke would make him laugh or cringe. The kid just watched him and gave no reaction. Dick cleared his throat and continued, “I was one of the people that helped you get out of your pod.” he informed him. Still no reaction, but he could tell the kid was listening.

Batman stepped to speak, “Do you know who you are?” A clear question, classic Bat.

“P-four-zero-dash-N-ten.” He recited in almost a robotic way. When Konner had been broken out of his pod, he had memories, an objective.

“What he means is do you have a name?” Dick said even though he knew that’s not what Batman had meant.

“Project Grayson. Attempt 16, variation B-7.” He said in the same tone. His eyes moved fast and widely and he took in Dick and Batman’s reactions. Without prompt he continued, “Subject A-1 of operation MouseTrap. To be released from confinement under circumstances of acceptance of preliminary requirements.”

There was a beat of silence, “What are the preliminary requirements?” Batman asked his voice hesitant in the way that Batman never hesitated.

“Requirement 1: Suitable requirements of sustainability. Requirement 2: Overridden entry granted,” When Nightwing hotwired the security to get in, “Requirement 3: DNA match Richard Grayson.”

“What do you know about Richard Grayson?” Batman questioned again. The doctor stepped closer to the kid, but waited for Batman’s question to be answered.

“Richard Grayson, son of Mary Grayson and John Grayson. Recognized as the Flying Graysons, a well known international circus act. Orphaned at age 8, adopted by Bruce Wayne at age 8. First notable appearance as Robin estimated age 9. First notable Nightwing appearance estimated age 19 to 20. Noted weapon of choice: dual escrima sticks. Proficient in martial arts, with emphasis in aerial maneuvers. Threat level: 9.” He paused again, eyes not leaving the whites of Batman’s cowl. “Do you require more details?”

“No.” He said quietly. He took a small step back as silent permission for the doctor to go ahead.

The kid’s eyes went to the doctor, taking in the lab coat before the doctor herself. “I’m going to draw some blood for testing. Is that okay?” The doctor displayed the empty syringe in her hands, not bringing the potential threat closer. The kid eyed the medical device.

“Understood.” He offered up his still bare forearm. The doctor seemed hesitant at that, but proceeded regardless. The boy’s features that had stayed a daring still during the entire not-really-a-conversation-probably-more-of-an-interrogation, made the light twitch of his left eye as the syringe penetrated his skin only more apparent.

Dick considered the interaction they had so far. The kid was definitely a kid. Presumably human considered the resemblance they seemed to share, but you could never be too sure with CADMUS. The tests would prove that once the results were back. But he seemed sentient, picking up on (the lack of) social cues and trying to correct (in his perspective) the mistakes he had made. He reacted to pain, maybe not in the way most kids would, but he wasn’t most kids. He had blood, so he wasn’t a cyborg. There was probably some brainwashing they needed to tap into, but nothing the League hadn’t dealt with before.

The doctor asked him whether he preferred a Superman bandaid or Wonder Woman. His head tilted to the side just a bit, as he examined both bandaids. Then stared at the doctor in silence. The doctor retreated to grab one of the boring brown ones they gave you when you weren’t allowed to have choices anymore. Konner watched the whole interaction from the corner of the room.

When Dick moved in wide steps, the kid watched him carefully with more curiosity than fight. He brought Konner close, but not so much that they were crowding the boy. They still didn’t know what he was capable of, and this would be the worst way to find out. “This is Konner.” Dick gave his shoulder a dramatic clap that he knew wouldn’t hurt the man, “He’s from CADMUS too, long story.” Curiosity took the better of him, “Do you know about project KR?” The kid tilted his head the way he had done with the doctor, which Dick took to mean he was confused and decided not to press the topic, “Well, anyway. Konner here can help you out with anything we can’t. Isn’t that right, Kon?” Dick spoke animatedly, pointedly being overly friendly in his demure with Konner.

Konner gave a nervous nod. Given the fight he’d put up to make sure they brought the kid with them, he was being awfully shy.

The kid looked between them, expression calculating. “Konner.” He echoed Dick’s cadence at the name, but it sounded strange in the monotone. Then he seemed to take a moment to process the name, eyebrows bunching up. He turned to Dick head tilted again. Dick was starting to find it quite endearing. “Konner here.” He echoed Dick’s voice again, but Dick gave him the space to try to find his next words that were brewing on his face, “Kon?” It had the slightest tilt of a question.

“Kon is a nickname.” Konner was quick to explain, his voice was gentle and placating in the way Superman’s often was. “My real name is Kon-el, but most people call me Konner, and my friends call me Kon.”

“Kon is a nickname.” The kid repeated, looking point blank into Konner’s eyes. Then he turned to Dick, “Most people call me Dick.” He repeated Dick’s introduction from before.

Dick gave him a large grin, “Yeah, Dick is a nickname, too. People only call me Richard if they’re mad at me. You picked that up pretty quick kid. You’re a smart one aren’t ‘cha.”

“Pretty quick.” He echoed.

“Do you want to pick out some clothes?” Konner asked. They kept a reserve of all sizes in the room across from the MedBay, they came in handy and also reminded people that Batman designed this place because who else would think to have a gift-shop themed store in the middle of space.

“Pick out? Some clothes.”

“Oh yeah, we got a bunch.” Dick nods.

Surprisingly it was Batman that spoke up next, “Would you like to go see?”

“You’re a smart one aren’t ‘cha.” He says in the same praising manner Dick had, the musculature of his face still steady. Konner hid his laughter much better than Dick, who doubled over in hysterics. Batman didn’t laugh, he never did, but there was a wisp of a smile on his face and that was as close to a cackle you could get out of the cowl.

Dick decided to save the Nightwing merchandise indoctrination for when the kid knew how to say no and mean it. They’d gone through and shown him a handful of options that were his size, because there were a lot of options. In the end he’d picked a hoodie with patchwork of Wonder Woman’s logo on it, that he wore over an equally vibrant Green Lantern t-shirt, and bright red Flash pajama pants. A lot of color, not that Dick’s original Robin costume had been much better in that aspect. The kid could use a bit of color in his life after whatever insanity he’d been put through.

Dick saw the way Batman’s eyes trailed after the kid’s every movement, and hands ready to pick out wherever his eyes landed on. He’d definitely be seeing more of the kid. Pulling the clothes on to replace the hospital gown, the kid looked at himself in the mirror, pulling at the clothes that were still a little big on him and examining them under the gaze of the mirror. When he was satisfied with the ensemble, he turned back to them.

Dick’s phone buzzed with a text.

Timbers: Updates?

It’d probably be best if Dick called him to explain. Which he’d have to do later. “Are you hungry, buddy?”

The kid looked at him curiously, head dipping to the side. The oversized hoodie only added to the look. “I like mac’n’cheese. Do you want to try that?”

“Pretty quick.” He said, in what Dick would deduce to be a yes.

“There’s going to be a lot of people there.” Batman explained, voice slow and enunciated, “We can bring you the mac’n’cheese or you can come with us to get it.”

The Watchtower wasn’t too crowded today, most of the heroes with other bases were there, but even today’s small number might be overwhelming for the kid. “Lot of people there.” he echoed, wide eyes looking up to meet the Caped Crusader’s.

“They’re other heroes. Like Wonder Woman,” Konner pointed to his hoodie, “Green Lantern,” the shirt peeked out from under the hoodie, “and Flash.”

“Superman. Aquman. And this is the Martian Manhunter.” The kid quoted from their quick explanation earlier.

Dick nodded, “Yeah like them, and they’re our friends so they’re not going to hurt you. But they might not be there because uh-” Dick hesitated about what he should say, “they’re at work.” he settled.

After a lot of consideration the kid seemed willing to head to the cafeteria, and they picked a seat in the corner where they could see the whole room but be out of the way enough so the kid didn’t get spooked. Batman and Konner took the kid to pick out which of the meals he thought looked most appetizing while Dick called Tim.

The phone rang a few times, “How screwed are you?” Tim said in lue of a greeting.

Dick laughed, “You should come by and meet your new brother.”

“What! It’s been like four hours?”

“He’s known him for like thirty minutes.” Dick watched as Batman and Konner did their best at explaining what each of the foods were.

“Seriously?” Tim exclaimed before sighing, “Kid got a name?”

“We’re working on it.”

“Is he gonna stay at the Manor?”

“Probably not for a while. What did you find on him?”

Another sigh, more frustrated. “It’s taking a while. But I should have it done in an hour.”

“Personal delivery?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” A pause, some of the other hero’s gave the kid curious looks. But fortunately no one approached since Batman was his shadow. “You know who he is, yet?” Tim meant in relation to Dick. Because there was some relation, people don’t just look alike. Not the way they did.

Brother. Son. Duplicate. Dick hadn’t really given himself the chance to think about it. Like really think about it. He has a family, sure, Bruce, Alfred, Barbra, Jason and Tim. But he had a family. The ones who told him Romani folktales and helped him feed the circus animals even though they weren’t allowed. He was the last of the Graysons, but that could only happen if there had been Graysons before. And there had been. Until they had fallen from grace, and the show light stopped shining upon them. But there was another Grayson now, in whatever way he had been made, and whoever he was supposed to be. Dick wasn’t the last Grayson anymore, and he hoped he would never have to be again. “We did some tests. They haven’t come back yet.”

“Hm. I’ll stop by when I can.”

“‘Kay. Toodles.” Dick could hear him snort at that before the line disconnected.

When Dick finally made it to the table, the kid looked up at him. He put a singular cheesy gnocchi in his mouth that took him a few tries to get on the end of his fork. The kid tried for another bite, hair flopping around as he tried to work the fork. Batman watched him as he managed to fill his fork with more than he would be able to fit in his mouth, then toppled and fell into the bowl. Confused, he tried again. This time Batman took the fork from him demonstrating how to use the utensil with a silent patience, and handed it back to the boy loaded with a bite.

Flash, ever the conversationalist, caught sight of them and made his way to the table. “Cool pants, kid.” he commented jovially sitting in the empty space next to Konner.

The kid looked down at his pants, cheese smeared around his mouth that Dick could tell Batman was seriously contemplating whipping. But neither of them were ready to push the kid’s boundaries yet, if he even had any. The kid examined the Flash emblem that patterned his pants, then up at the matching and much more meticulously designed on the speedster’s chest. His eyes went wide with recognition, but his face didn’t move to smile. The kid pointed to Flash’s chest, “Cool pants, kid!” He exclaimed excitement was easily laced into the Flash’s cadence of speech.

“Hey! That’s what I said!” Flash was easy to laugh, despite the whisper of confusion in his eyes.

The cheer Flash displayed was matched easily, “Hey! That’s what I said!” There was a laugh in his voice like he was trying to say a joke that reached his eyes but not his cheeks. “And Flash!” he exclaimed.

“That's right, I’m the Flash.” He gave a quick lap around the table to show off his speed, both the kid’s and Dick’s hair tousled in the show.

“Pretty quick.” Danny cheered.

“I’d like to think so.” Flash puffed his chest out, a prideful smile on his face. Dick rolled his eyes. Speedsters.

“You should eat your food before it gets cold.” Konner nudged the kid gently. Reminded of the earlier mystery of the fork and mac'n'cheese, his attention was quickly diverted.

“Kinda young for the family business, don’t you think, Batsy?” Flash questioned, “He didn’t even earn his colors yet.” Flash alluded to the Robin suit.

“He’ll be staying at the Watchtower for a period.” Batman said, and whatever other additional explanation he was about to give was forgotten when the kid placed his forkless hand on the table to aim at the pasta from overhead, like he’d been doing earlier. Except unlike all the other times, his hand went straight through the hard material of the table, causing him to topple over. A surprised gasp escaped him.

Flash caught his head before it hit anything, the other’s on their feet. “Oh, dear.” Flash commented lightly, trying to disperse any tension the kid may have had. Like all the other times, he didn’t cry or seem alarmed in any way. He tried to pull his hand out but it seemed stuck, and he turned to Dick for an explanation. Not that Dick had one to give. He wasn’t a meta, untapped or otherwise. His parent’s weren't either. And even if the tests hadn’t come back Dick had had his suspicions of who the kid was supposed to be to him. And meta didn’t fit anywhere into the bill.

“Can you get him out?” Batman asked Flash, when it was clear the kid didn’t know how to. It took him a while to phase his hand out, and it was obvious he didn’t like the idea of using the speed force on the kid, but they didn’t have that many options. The kid, to his credit, seemed only mildly put off by the experience and went back to his goal of finishing his mac’n’cheese. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of them.

Batman gave Dick a look. “Tim says he should be done in an hour. Stop by if he can.” Batman didn’t look pleased, but there wasn’t much else for him to do.

“Are you ok?” Konner asked, trying for a gentle hand on his shoulder. The kid didn’t protest.

“Pretty quick.” He said pointing his fork to Flash, as a final comment.

me: has a prompt idea me: i can write a short little exerpt abt this lol. it' be fun. maybe like 2k?? me four days later pulls put this monstrosity:

for your convince I only have the "original amount" i was planning. the rest will be on ao3

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widowshill · 1 month ago

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GIVE ME A CHARACTER MEME — Nicholas Blair pwease? Spare Nicholas? (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠) My goober....

GIVE ME A CHARACTER.

How I feel about this character

I love him!! I think he's so funny and charming and just a delight to watch. he really adds a little je ne sais quois to the ensemble cast when he's here — I miss him desperately in the stretches of the Adam storyline or Leviathans when he isn't around. I know I've said this before but I think I was doomed to adore him when he was chit chatting with the non-diegetic soundtrack, with a close runner-up being the scene where he visits Julia when she's sick in bed with Vampire Victim and brings her flowers, even if (especially because) his motives for doing so are not entirely pure. it's one of those little moments that show flickers of humanity — that Nicholas shows casual care for people, even when he stands to gain no benefit by it (the forged goodbye note from Cassandra to Roger being another example; he could have easily let her vanish and shrugged his shoulders, but for Roger's sense of closure)

which is one of those things that makes his accusations towards Angelique of being human and therefore weaker for it so much more interesting, in my opinion. his own selfish fascination for Maggie is one thing (and I'll get to that in a minute) but Angelique's obsession with Barnabas isn't, to me, indicative of love — and though she will occasionally offer acts of care to others as a bargaining chip to mousetrap Barnabas or Quentin (etc.) into marriage, I can't think of an instance where she shows the same kind of casual consideration when it's not a price for something she wants. which is interesting! Nicholas isn't usually pulling the big dramatic acts of saving someone's life to (hypothetically) earn someone's heart — but I think he cares more about the humans around him than even he would like to believe. and (because I've been watching Black Sails again, and Flint is on my mind) I would go so far as to argue that their impression of him matters much more to him than it does to Angelique — he wants to be seen as charming, a gentleman, polite, even a friend — he doesn't want to be seen as the villain, despite his diabolical (self-admittedly!) motives. in contrast to Angelique who believes herself to have the best motives, but is almost entirely indifferent to how much incidental damage she causes or how much people hate her along the way.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

mmmm just Trask, I would say? I am not immune to the scene of the two of them in the old house basement, and the wicked man of the cloth vs. the smiling, mildly gold-hearted devil is a contrast that has captivated the fandom for many years. if there's someone that makes an even more interesting candidate than Nicholas to go through the wringer of discovering the weakness of the human flesh when it stands in the way of an (un)holy mission ... <3 he's very corruptible. and I think, even more than the attraction aspect, it would get under Trask's skin how similar he and Nicholas' motives/practices really are, when he likes to believe himself in service to God.

I think his relationship with Maggie is interesting, but I wouldn't really call it a reciprocal devotion, so I hesitate to say I ship it as such? I know you and I have discussed this quite a bit, but it's more fun to look at for what it reveals about them as individuals — Nicholas' weakness not just for a human kind of love, but for human goodness, or innocence. — to want to be liked, and adored of Maggie's own free will. he says that Eve is his kind of woman, but this isn't born out; the woman who captivates him isn't the cruel murderess, but the good-hearted, hard-working, honest girl. as I said before I don't think this is the only instance of this, but if his affection towards Julia and Roger etc. poke holes in the sleek, cruel facade, his relationship with Maggie tears it open. and it is selfish: long before he's drugging her to take her to the Black Mass I would say the way he treats Joe to get him out of the way is more than enough evidence of selfishness when it comes to Maggie's heart. but to me that not only speaks to his desperation — having found something that, to Nicholas, is rare and sacred and he is anxious to keep — but that he doesn't yet know what love is at all, and the process of falling in love with Maggie is what reveals that to him. by the time he does force Maggie into the ceremony, he's already learned to love her in a way that he blanches at the idea and is sick with himself over it.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Rogerrrrr. dapper bros forever <3333 I know a lot of people ship them which is fine I guess but I think they're so much funnier as world's best, posh, snarky brothers-in-law, supporting each other's relative infatuations with brunette ingenues (which, worth noting that Nicholas absolutely hates Vicki and Roger doesn't exactly care for Maggie before she starts working at Collinwood, which is even funnier) Nicholas showed up on this earth and said I'm here to drink brandy wear nicely-tailored suits and serve the devil. And Roger said hell yeah brother wait what was that last bit

I mean ... they're both characters that really do lack a friend or confidant of any kind; mostly if not entirely because they've spent their entire existences being evil and snarky at everyone, so they've kind of made their own beds where that's concerned, but. it's nice that they're a natural pair in terms of their sense of taste, their refinement and sense of humor, their annoyance with Cassandra, etc, etc. it's good for them! I think Nicholas comes around to regretting Roger getting caught in the crossfire of his and Angelique's schemes, by the end (which isn't much, I suppose, considering he still intends to lead a demon Frankenstein army to take over the earth, and later to turn Roger's niece into the childbearer for the cult snake god, but hey. nobody's perfect!)

My unpopular opinion about this character

ummm I'm not sure I really have one. what's a popular opinion on Nick? I guess the only thing that's coming to mind is that I don't see him and Angelique as romantic/sexual? to each their own but I always interpret them as bickering siblings, or annoyed coworkers that are forced to deal with each other because of the company hierarchy, rather than exes or a situationship. also it's funny to think of Angelique being a daddy's girl with the devil considering she basically does nothing for hell's cause and has to have her ass saved 24/7 and gets one zillion chances meanwhile the oldest child fails one time and gets to burn in superhell for it. typical. what was angelique even doing other than trying to get some guy to marry her. again. mind you marriage is a CHRISTIAN institution!!! she's playing for the other team!!!!!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I WISH he interacted with Roger in Leviathans. cmon guys you know each other that's technically still your brother in law !!!!! it'd be really funny if Nick served Ang some demonic divorce paperwork or something once he found her on Little Windward Island because she's gotten remarried so what gives. free my man.

#love him need 2 watch some nick episodes soon!!!!#➤ answered. ┊ Collinsport 4099.#➤ meme responses. ┊ boo !

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